Saturday, April 29, 2017

Catch up

It's been forever and a day since I've last posted.  Since then, when I was in the throes of caretaker for my elderly mother who fought every change along the way, she has since passed away.  It's been almost 4 years.

My grandchildren have multiplied!  I now have 11!

They are my breath and heart.
I just thought I'd put this here, as the sight of the last post was almost too much for me to see every once in a while.
I loved blogging, and met some interesting friends.  Maybe it will take off again!  Is so, I'm here!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Notice: I'm Still Alive!!!

Hello people! Surprised that I took time out of my busy life to blog? Yeah, me too.

Mom update for those of you who follow. Mom’s doing SO much better in assisted living, but she wants to go home. She has gotten healthier and has had more socialization than she has had in 5 years! She looks as though she’s stepped back about 5 years in time too. She’s going to Bingo, going to church, showering herself and taking back some of the independence she has lost over the year or so. But, she cannot go home. She would slide right back to eating toast and sleeping in a chair ALL day without the structure of assisted living.

I’ve listed her house with a realtor and we’ve been going through all her stuff getting it ready for a garage sale and finding comfortable homes for some things. HUGE time suck for me. Hence the stagnant blog space here at RWS. Keep me in your prayers, as this life change for my mom has been hard on her and she’s not the happiest person – but she has all new apartment sized furniture and we’re making her apartment really nice.

Now on to another topic. Ponder this.

I drive a rural route to work each day to avoid the highway that runs parallel. The rural road is scattered with homes, farmer’s fields and some wooded patches. It’s about a 10 mile stretch, and very pleasant driving. There are no sidewalks people. Actually, I pass very little signs of life – except the deer that dart out and squirrels and such.
So, I pass a little dip in the road where there is a cluster of homes on my left and a corn field on my right, and a road sign that says, “Caution, Blind person in the area”.

? {blink} {blink}

So, who is this for really? If a person who isn’t blind wanders onto the road, I’m not going to hit them if at all possible. If a blind person led by a cane and a seeing eye dog wanders out of the corn field…still swerving here!
Should the blind be driving?
Should I turn up my radio so they can hear me coming?
Is this a Hipaa violation?

Just so you all know, if I ever have any type of handicap, I really don’t want the road department to put up a yellow sign pointing me out. Don’t get me wrong – I understand the need for a sign that says, Slow down children at Play, Slow down, handicapped child in the area, Deer Crossing, Icy when Wet, School Bus May Suddenly Stop, etc.

But seriously? Blind Person In the Area? That seems a little TMI.

Hope your Wednesday is Wonderful! Watch out for the Blind!

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Happy Mother's DAY!

Wow, it's been awhile since I've had a chance to blog. Oh, that doesn't mean that I've not been reading blogs, I just was so busy I couldn't string together a few words to make a proper sentence.

This week was a nightmare from hell for me. My elderly mom in the hospital, I broke her free and placed her into an assisted living apartment. She's not the same mom I had a few weeks ago, but she's in a safe and controlled environment. She's pretty weak, dazed and confused, but healing. Pretty rough stuff - not for the weak at heart. (which I didn't think I was, but aparently, maybe so when it comes to moms)

This is my daughters first Mother's Day! Happy day to you baby! and to all of you mom's out there - some ride eh? Wouldn't trade it for the world!

Cheers to you all!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Break in the Temp

We've had a helluva winter thus far. Blizzard, below freezing temps, more snow than you can shake a shovel at.

And this weekend, a break in the below zero temps. It's reached 30 degrees and feels like spring! Of course, that means that I witnessed two grown adults and one teenaged "child" yesterday in the grocery store parking lot, parents without coats, and teenager in shorts and yes, wait for it....flip flops.

I take this to be a jinx to the powers that be. Looking for a drop in the thermometer any minute. Crazy people never cease to amaze me.

Saturday, January 1, 2011


To all my blog buddies and all you blog lurkers - Have a healthy and prosperous New Year.

Friday, December 17, 2010

The Town

A few years ago, I thought that owning a small Christmas Town on my fireplace mantle would be charming. It would bring on a diorama of fantasy and charm to our Christmas displays. Ohhhh, I started collecting town pieces with the help of loving friends and family who finally thought "AH, the perfect gift - a piece for her town"! The town grew and grew and grew, until it no longer was a town, but a large metropolis, one that outgrew the mantle and spread out onto end tables, bookcases and computer desk tops.

The town also has a life of it's own with it's little characters...

The METROPOLIS - the downtown section - complete with school, church, library, strip mall, movie theatre, coffee shop and of course, Jack's diner.

The "Gated Community"...where the manor houses collect the elite of the village. Rumors abound that the house on the left is Oprah's winter get away. Personally, I can't verify those claims.
I can however, attest to viewing Kate Gosselin and her brood, shoveling snow, making snow angels and such. The paparazzi always after a good photo op.
Uh oh, every town has it's bad section, where crime and urban decay seems to creep in. See Santa? See the "ho-ho-ho"? Yeah, it's hard to stop crime even in your dreams

This is Darrell and his other brother Darrell. KIDS STAY IN SCHOOL! The Darrell's never finished their GED, therefore they work maintenance at the brewery on the edge of town. Shoveling snow, and still dressing alike after all these years...

This is the radio station owner, Mr. WXMS, who is legally blind. His loyal assistant, Mr. Washington guides his every step. Mr. WXMS bought the radio station after loosing his sight, but not his hearing! He's making lemon aide out of lemons - what a "It's a Wonderful Life" moment here in the Town.Ahhh... Young love abounds. Folks getting married on Christmas...(how do they fit into that little tiny church door, I'll never know. It's all just part of the charm of the town)

This is the rural scene on top of the computer desk. There's the farm, Grandma's house and the tree farm/stand. (note: none of the pieces are of the same scale - imagination is a must here) Let's wrap it up with some holiday carols from Boyz 2 Men in an annual rooftop concert on the top of Jack's Diner! Nothing says Christmas more than four guys singing A Capella near the hustle and bustle - don't you agree?

Monday, October 25, 2010

Attention Germaphobes!

So, I return to blogging because of a controversial practice I witnessed and wanted some feedback.
No, really, I thought that this would be a good time to post. It’s not about my absence, nor about my aging mother, or about my new grandson (that I could talk about until you swiftly hit Esc) but rather about Dairy Queen.

Now, don’t we all love a good DQ? I know I do! Love me some blizzards, some dilly bars, buster bars, or a small cone dipped in chocolate, the kind that hardens and cracks in a oh so luscious chocolatey way. So, when my friend and co-worker suggests an afternoon snack at the local DQ, I accepted! As we sat slowly scooping and savoring our mini blizzards, we were watching the DQ staff who was answering the telephone, acting as cashier and stocking the grated cheese bin with cheese she scooped from a large bag of grated cheese taken out of the fridge - with her bare hands. Fingers that just recently typed on the cash register, accepting dirty yucky money from a couple of high school students, now returned back to reaching into that bag to scoop out more cheese, if you please.

UGH! The thought of it makes me want to run out and get a flu shot and then scrub my body with a bristle brush like I just encountered a nuclear reactor gone bad. (Insert the shower scene from Silkwood, thank you very much for not commenting on the reference’s age)

Thinking that the DQ staffer must have some education in hygiene, my friend, a nurse pondered calling the manager of said Dairy Queen to ask about the sanitary conditions and the absence of say, gloves. The manager informed her, it wasn’t their policy to wear gloves while handling food – only to, dramatic pause, wash their hands!

Now, begin to discuss amongst yourselves, and leave a comment if you please. AHHHHH, personally, I’m going to go and gargle.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

It Flys By

So, yesterday, with a day off and some time to spare I made a trip out to visit my mom. I had a plan in mind. a) to get her out of the house b) to take her for a ride in an air-conditioned car to do a drive-by to some assisted living facilities c) to bribe her with a sandwhich from her favorite sandwhich shop.

She didn't have time to "wrap her brain around it". So she was befuddled. We went on said journey, within a five mile radius of her house. Got the sandwich and she was ready to go home.
We looked at one (1) facility-from the parking lot.

It wasn't all gloom and doom. Nope. It was a lesson in understanding. These lessons are getting more frequent, for both me and my aging mom.

I've been trying to get her to wrap her brain around getting out of her 45 year old house that needs so much up keep, out of her comfort zone and into the world around her. Partly because she is so very lonely, (self imposed exile from the world we live in) and partly because she really isn't safe anymore in her home - alone.

All this plays on my mind. Taking her back home (total trip time, 25 minutes-10 minutes spent on sandwich prep) we talked about her finances. I placed a call to her financial planner, who it turns out is an acquaintance of mine. She returns my call, telling me that because of privacy restrictions, she cannot discuss mom's finances with me unless I have power of attorney or mom says it's ok. My mom got on the phone and told her it's ok. AND that she granted me POA about four years ago (never told me).
{heavy sigh}
So, mom decides now would be a good time to go through her drawers looking for the POA documents. She sits on the bed, I rifle through her assorted belongings to go through large brown envelopes of papers from cars that she no longer owns, from home-made Mother's day cards from an 8 yr. old me, a 6 yr. old brother. I find spectacles that have one lense..."Mom, what are these?" "oh those belonged to my mother" (she passed some 51 years ago). Hankies, still smelling of spray starch and scented drawer sachets, an old driver's license held on to because the photo looked pretty good (seriously???-same weight I might add, who knew?)
I found the POA, an original and a copy. I reasoned in my mind that she didn't tell me because she feared that I might use this as a control tactic, a weapon to put her away into a nursing home against her will. Cause I'm like that right? As I spend every day off, every vacation day, most of my weekends, trying to take care of her needs, trying to bring her some speck of relief, of happiness in her clouded view of the world. Into her living room.
I'm struck by the tidbits of her life that she's saved. Savored even? 50 years pass and that's all we have, hankies and broken eyeglasses. Touch stones to the life we once lived, tangible reminders that once we touch - take us right back to that time, that place.
Later, she called me at home to tell me she remembered why she didn't give me the POA when she had it drawn up. She confesses to me that she didn't want me to sell her home and put her into an awful nursing home. "they are just awful Jack, everybody knows that you aren't treated well in those awful places".
Torn, I tell her I had already figured that out. But assisted living could give her some support. She wouldn't have to cook anymore, since she really hates cooking now. She wouldn't have to worry about who is going to mow her lawn, who is going to pick up the weeds, how is she going to go out and get her mail, what is she going to eat for supper, there's no one to talk to...
Or maybe I'm kidding myself. She might be more withdrawn in an assisted living apartment. What to do...what to do.
Keep looking, something will come my way. There's one constant in life and that is it's always changing.