Journal: Birthdays, Birthdays, Birthdays (and Bats)

Tuesday, February 22^nd, was Keith’s birthday.  Our oldest child is now 42 years old.  I sent him a couple of gifts through Amazon Prime, but both were late.  So much for ‘Prime’, which has recently gone up to $139/year.  I think it may be time to cancel our membership, even though I use it regularly for gifts and household necessities and suchlike.  I’ll look back at last year’s orders and see if I actually saved enough to make the membership worthwhile. 

We gave Keith an Ulu with a moose antler for a handle (it finally arrived Friday) and a devotional called Streams in the Desert.  I got a notice a couple of days ago that the book has been delayed, and will arrive April 12^th.  🙄

There were a few things I could’ve been doing at Loren’s house that day, but it was 4°, the wind chill was -23°, the work that needed to be done was in the garage, and the big heater out there can’t keep it warm when it’s that cold.  Brrrrr. 

Nevertheless, I’ve been thankful all this upheaval with Loren happened in the winter instead of in the summer when the menfolk are swamped with work.

Several friends have asked if Loren’s dementia has gotten worse since going into the nursing home.

On the contrary, Loren’s dementia has improved since going into the home, so much so that unless one talks with him for quite a little while, one would wonder what on earth he’s doing there.  This is typical of Lewy Body dementia.  Patients can ‘try’ extra hard to be ‘normal’ – and actually ‘be’ normal, for a while.  Loren did this when Teddy was staying with him, particularly on the first day Teddy was there.  By evening, Loren was totally exhausted from the effort, and by the fourth day or so, he was downright irritable, and saying and doing all sorts of odd things.

I have given the doctors at the home permission to give him certain medications that have proven to be helpful for the various things dementia patients struggle with.  They are good and reputable doctors with good reviews.

As for the red biplane sailing off to parts unknown and a stray skunk showing up in its stead, maybe he likes the stuffed skunk (and the possibly hibernating bird) bettah.  Maybe whoever wound up with the biplane likes it bettah than whatever he done losted!  I take only items I don’t mind losing.  Believe me, Loren had plenty of ‘items’ in his house.  If I inadvertently wind up supplying other members of the nursing home with said ‘items’, well, then...  that’s okay.  😊

A friend suggested I tell Loren a different dollar amount each time he asks how much something (such as the chair) cost us.  Haha, I have indeed sometimes given Loren a different answer each time he asked the same question.  If the questions/answers are close enough together, he has now and then stopped what he was doing, turned to look at me with that old twinkle in his eyes, and said, “Sarah Lynn, I think you’re pulling my leg.” 

I reply to this accusation with, “I never do that.”  And he always laughs.

By the way, although Loren’s previous roommate – roommate #2, that is – was gone (possibly moving to a private room), they’d left the air purifier behind.  I thought that was nice of them – but on second thought, maybe the home paid them for it?  Or maybe they didn’t leave it behind, but Loren ‘found’ it in the abovementioned private room and collected it back again?  Who knows.

The day was not getting any warmer.  The wind was howling around the eaves at 35 to 40 mph.  And yet the Canada geese keep right on a-flyin’ north.

The bird feeders – or squirrel feeders, as the case may be – needed to be filled.  The round copper lid on one of the Nyjer seed feeders won’t stay down, no matter how many twist-ties I put on it.  It sounds like the cymbals in an orchestra.  

The furnace couldn’t stay up.  Even with it turned up to 70 and a couple of space heaters going, it was only 61° in here.  I had three sweaters on, fleece socks and leggings, a scarf...

I put away the last of the stuff I’d brought from Loren’s house.  I also called the tax agency and made an appointment to take Loren’s papers there.  I could probably do it myself with Turbo Tax, but I like to keep everything totally free of suspicious scrutiny – and if he ever becomes eligible for Medicaid, they will indeed scrutinize his finances.

Arthritis was a bit worse than usual for a couple of days, probably on account of carrying too many heavy things.  I would’ve liked to go crawl in bed and pull up the covers.  But there were too many things to do!  Sooo... I sipped a Kiwi-Lime Accelerator drink, which has 10 calories, 200 mg of caffeine, and ‘ocean mineral electrolytes’, and drank piping hot coffee as a chaser (and to keep the Kiwi-Lime drink from making me any colder than I already was).

Now, git bizzy and do something, I told myself.  Getting the last few boxes from Loren’s house all emptied and everything put away should warm me up, right?  Especially if I hurried.  Okay, where’s my ‘ON’ switch??

At ten after two, my stomach growled.  I’d forgotten to eat breakfast! 

I popped half a blueberry bagel into the toaster, stuck a cold saucer under the broiler on ‘Low’, poured a glass of milk, and got the butter, honey, and jelly ready.  Mmmm... I love toasted blueberry bagels.  I put honey on half of it, jelly on the other half.

By 5:30 p.m., I had proven my hypothesis correct:  Once I got in gear, I warmed up, got over being so sleepy, and actually got something done.  Amazing, the good a little bit of old-fashioned work can do a body!  😄

Several boxes of stuff were sorted and put away.  Other things were put into the BMW for transport to the Salvation Army.  Space heaters were turned down.  Litterboxes were changed.  Necessities were ordered from Wal-Mart.  Trash was bagged and ready to be hauled out.  Annnd... there were only two more boxes of things to sort. 

I needed to hang some pictures, shelves, and knickknacks back on the wall in the living room; Larry had taken them down when he turned the bookcase to make room for the new loveseat.  Maybe I should dust them first?  On the other hand, they’d just get dusty again...

(I dusted them.)

However, I now had yet another complaint:  my coffee mug had been sitting on a mug warmer – but the mug warmer was not doing its bounden duty of keeping the coffee warm, because it was sitting beside the north kitchen window, and the breeze was whipping right through, all around the casing.

It’s a serious insult to pick up one’s coffee mug, sip what one expects to be a piping hot drink of Toasted White Chocolate coffee by Christopher Bean – and wind up with a mouthful of tepid, flavorless, swamp muck.

“I’ve never tasted swamp muck,” said one of my seriously-lacking-in-imagination (or maybe just non-adventurous) friends.

“It tastes remarkably like seaweed mixed with sludge,” I informed her.

(Don’t tell her I have never tried swamp muck, either.)

By a quarter after two in the morning, it was -5°, and the windchill was -27°.  But I’d gotten everything from Loren’s house put away, the shelf with nautical décor was back up, several pictures were rehung, and the tall old sailing ships were back on the bookcase.  I even dusted them first!

Okay, I gotta go take a picture.

...       ...       ...

All right, I’m back.  Did you miss me?  Here’s the picture.  

We have the wrong kind of curtain rod for one layer of lace curtains.  There used to be heavy beige curtains and valances hanging in front of the lace sheers.  I took them down to clean them – and the living room was so much brighter and airier without them, I never put them up again.  (But neither did I put up singles rods.  Someday, someday.)

Wednesday, after taking his chemo treatment at a nearby medical center, my nephew Kelvin stopped to see Loren.  Sometimes he is too sick to do much after the chemo treatments.  The doctors give him antinausea with steroids and then Pepcid at the end, but he usually still feels sick.  This time he felt well enough to visit Loren – and Loren still remembered that visit Saturday evening when we went to see him.

That afternoon, the last of the gifts I ordered (I think) for Babies Oliver and Willie finally arrived.  They were matching sets of sleepers, three for each baby.  I sent a text to Hester:  “A gift for Oliver will be in the Mercedes after church in a gift bag (an actual baby gift bag!!) that has balloons all over it, and there’s also a tag with his name on it.  I hope 0-3 months still fits him!”

She answered, “Okay!  Thank you!!  It definitely will; he still has newborn things that are just a little big.  🙂”

I sent a similar note to Victoria:  “Another gift for Baby Willie finally arrived.  It will be in the Mercedes after church in a gift bag (an actual baby gift bag!!) that’s blue and has blue baby booties on it, and there’s also a tag with his name on it.”

She promptly replied, “I already wrote you a thank you note, how dare you!!!”  Then, “Just kidding; thank you so much!!”  😅

She then sent more pictures of Baby Willie.

I texted another friend to tell her that we had found several pieces of Janice’s china that match the set we gave her when their house burned down shortly before Christmas in 2008.  It was a set given to us by friends and family for a wedding gift.  It had been packed away in boxes for 5 ½ years, ever since we moved out here to the country.  We wouldn’t be using them anytime soon, but I knew they would.

When we headed out the door to go to church that night, our arms were full:  Larry carried the heavy box of china; I had the gift bags, our Bibles, my purse, and a piano lesson book of hymns for children that I’d found in Janice’s piano bench.  The piano book was for Lydia’s children.  I even remembered to tuck the tiny red pencil I’d promised Keira into my small church purse, which also contained small calendar pictures for the other little grandchildren.

These days, even little Eva, when she sees me coming, smiles, looks at my purse, and requests, “Pitzoo?”

At midnight, it was 0°, with a windchill of -13°.  

Thursday, I took Loren’s tax papers to the CPA.  They’ve moved from a fancy old house downtown to a new building out near the hospital, and there’s no sign up yet.  There were no cars in front of the building, and I couldn’t see that there was a small parking lot in the back for employee vehicles.  So I drove right past the place once, noted that I had passed up the pin on the map on my phone, did a turn-around in the next parking lot, and finally spotted a small paper sporting the Cruise & Associates logo taped on one of the doors of the new building.  Aha.

I pulled in, climbed out of the BMW (which was full of stuff that needed to be taken to the Salvation Army), and trippity-tropped my way to the door in my tall, new leather dress boots.  Actually, I’ve had them for over a year, but have hardly worn them.  I decided it was the perfect occasion for it – and they did indeed keep my legs warm and toasty.  It was 7°, with a wind chill of -10°.

Keith wrote, “Can you guys quit sending us your cold weather, please?  I haven’t been able to work all week because of it.  😬”

“Yeah, well...” I responded, “I sent it to you, but we still have it.  How’s that work??”

The taxman was having troubles getting his computer to respond.  I think it was because the internet signals were frozen.

A friend from a southern state wrote to me, “’Tis true that central Alabama has hot summers with high humidity (you walk outside and start sweating within 30 seconds), but we have long stretches of very nice weather in the fall and spring.”  She attached a screenshot of WeatherBug showing temperatures ranging from the high 60s to the low 80s for the next week and a half.

Hmmph.

“We have days like that, too,” I informed her.  >>... pause ...<<  “One was on May 20^th, 1975; the other was on September 15^th, 2006.”

After leaving the accounting office, I dropped off a load of stuff at the Salvation Army, then stopped at the post office to pick up Loren’s mail, which I’m having held there.  I will have it stopped once I am sure all the important mail is being redirected to our house.  I thought I had done that; but I just realized I did not get his property tax bill yet, and probably should’ve by now.  

On the way back home, I went to Dollar General to pick up a couple of cans of apple pie filling to go in the box with the covered ceramic pie dish we were giving Victoria for her birthday.  I had also bought some fancy Lilla Rose bobby pins with orchids on them from Hannah.

Imagine, our youngest was having her 25^th birthday that day, the 24^th.

I wrapped Victoria’s present, changed clothes, and went to Loren’s house.  I filled a large bin with things to take to the Goodwill, and Larry carried a glass-shelved and glass-sided curio cabinet out to the Beemer.  He’d removed the interior shelves and wrapped them in towels.  I plan to store quilts in the cabinet. 

With the cabinet, big tote, and a plant stand in the vehicle, it was full.  So off I went to Victoria’s house to give her the gift.

Hannah and Joanna and a few other friends were there.  Baby Willie was in a baby wrap affixed to his mother, all cuddled up snugly.

“You’ve wadded your baby all up!!” I exclaimed, making Victoria laugh.

Willie didn’t so much as lift an eyebrow.

After a little visit, I headed for the door, telling everyone goodbye as I went. 

“Oh!” exclaimed Violet, scrambling off her cousin Joanna’s lap, “I need to give Grandma a goodbye ki---------”  She paused, remembering that her Mama had told her not to be giving everyone kisses after the new baby came along, so as not to spread so many germs.

She put up a small index finger.  “Just goodbye hugs only,” she amended.

I leaned down and gave her a big hug, and Carolyn came rushing to get (and give) one, too.  I looked at Joanna.  “Does Joanna need a goodbye hug only, too?” I asked the little girls.

Joanna rose to her feet, tall and dignified.  “We will shake hands,” she announced in her droll way.

I shook hands with her, equally dignified, though not tall. 

Carolyn laughed uproariously and stuck out her small hand to shake mine, too.  Violet wrinkled her nose and giggled.  Her hands stayed well behind her back.  This was way too goofy for her!  🤣

I headed for home, trying to drive gingerly and miss all the potholes.  Nevertheless, the glass sides of the curio cabinet rattled ominously.

But I made it home with all the glass still intact.  It just occurred to me, that cabinet is still in the BMW!  Larry needs to carry it in; it’s much too heavy for me.  Hmmm... where will I put it??

The large tote of things to donate is still in the BMW, too, as the Goodwill was closed by the time I drove by that day, and I haven’t driven the Beemer since.

Friday, I got back to scanning photos again.  It’s been over three weeks since the last time I did.  Here are Andrew and Hester on July 30, 2000, at a friend’s wedding.  Eight years later, they would be married. 

Here are Victoria and Caleb, ages 3 and 5.  They were flowergirl and ringbearer for Bobby and Hannah’s wedding on June 25, 2000.

The next two photos are of Victoria three weeks later wearing the same dress after I shortened it so she could wear it for other occasions.  Hannah did the beading on the bodice to match her own wedding gown.

Saturday was Trevor’s 6^th birthday.  Dorcas sent pictures of their house, all decorated for a little party they were having for him.  Her house looks so pretty.  I commented on the fireplace, and Dorcas replied, “That’s all Todd’s handy work.  The fireplace was boarded up when we moved here.  We tore it down and put in a new wood stove.”

She sent a picture of Todd in the kitchen, and I wrote, “Keep an eye on him!  He looks like a cupcake snatcher, to me!  (That’s a pretty kitchen, too.)”

Todd put in all the upper cabinets and the tile.  There were no upper cupboards except for a tall metal one when they bought the house.

A few days ago, Dorcas sent pictures of Trevor with the terrarium we gave him for his birthday.  Some of our children save early birthday gifts for the day of the actual birthday, and enjoy the suspense of wondering what’s in the box.  Others rip right in, never mind how early said gift is.  Dorcas is one of the latter.

In this case, it worked out well.  They put Trevor’s terrarium together and added water last Monday, and by Saturday, the day of his birthday, Trevor was delighted to find that everything was growing nicely.

I was hoping it would actually grow!  I remember getting one when I was little that, after all the work of putting it together, did absolutely nothing at all.

Saturday afternoon, we went to see Loren.  We took him some red seedless grapes; he’s particularly fond of them.  He tried opening the container, and then I took over, because it’s the kind of a carton that when you finally succeed in prying the lid off, you’re quite likely to send grapes flying hither and yon.

He told us, “You know, I’ve been here for quite a while, because the NFIB has been having meetings.  I told them I needed to go home and see my family, and they told me I could have a couple of days off – but then – you know how big companies are – they jerked the rug out from under me, and said they needed me to stay.”

I smiled at him and said, “Well, that’s okay.  We’ll just keep coming to see you, instead!” 

He smiled back and said, “Thank you!  I really appreciate that.”

The lady he has befriended was sitting there in the commons area beside him.  She recognized us when we came in, and beamed at us, happy we’d come (we brought her a chair last week, after all!).  As Loren told us the NFIB story, Ms. Ladyfriend nodded vigorously in agreement.

I gave Loren some chapstick and a postcard with a big, cute puppy in a baby swing.  One of his ears had gotten blown backwards by the wind.  Loren laughed, and handed the card to the lady so she could see it, too. 

We walked around the corner and took a look into the lounge area.  There are a lot of couches and overstuffed chairs, a table with matching chairs, a TV, and a gas fireplace. 

Two women came along.  One reached right into Loren’s container of grapes, helped herself to a couple, and then admonished him, “You should share those with your visitors!”

I, mistakenly thinking she was one of the nurses walking with one of the patients (they were actually both patients) (or if they weren’t, they should be), promptly informed her, “We gave them to him!  And you–” I grinned at her and gestured at the grapes she was right that moment putting into her mouth “–just stole those from him!”

This didn’t seem to faze her, although she did continue on down the hall and stay out of his grapes after that.  Loren then handed the container of grapes to his friend, and we walked down one of the hallways together.

When we came back to the front commons area, I saw that the grapes were all over the floor around Ms. Ladyfriend’s chair, and she was struggling out of the chair and getting down to pick them up.  I hurried to help her, even though she kept saying, “I’ve got it, I’ve got it!”  (She repeats everything she says at least twice.  She does it with such enthusiasm, I’ll betcha anything she’s done it all her life.) 

I went on picking up grapes, saying, “It’s okay; I can help.”

When we were done, she thanked me heartily, and proceeded to give me a big hug.  I took the opportunity to ask what her name is. 

“It’s Pam!” she said with a friendly smile. 

(I suppose she does know her own name?) 

I told her, “Mine is Sarah Lynn.” 

She smiled at me in delight and greeted me like we’d only just met:  “Hi, Sarah Lynn!!!”

Larry and Loren stood talking nearby.  I could hear Loren telling Larry that there were other rooms upstairs (there is no upstairs), but his room has so far been on this lower floor.  I told Pam we had nine children, and three new grandbabies, bringing the grand total up to 27. 

She was properly astonished, and then said, “There’s nothing better than grandbabies, nothing better than grandbabies.” 

I agreed, and asked, “Do you have any children?”

She shook her head ‘no’ – but, judging by how she acted, there’s probably more to the story.  Maybe.  But I asked no further questions.

Loren started on his NFIB story again, and I decided we’d better leave before any other old memories turned into ‘recent happenings’, because I feared if he kept it up, he’d soon make himself feel bad. 

So we told them goodbye and headed out, once again forgetting that we had to wait for the nurse to let us through the door, and setting off the sirens.  🙄😳  I did it first, remembered just as the ‘beeeep’ started, backed away quickly and said, “Ooops!  They have to unlock the door.” 

But Larry had again forgotten his hearing aids (he doesn’t wear them to work, so has a hard time remembering them other times), and he strode forward to open that door by sheer brute force and awkwardness. 

“No, don’t do that!” I said.  

He did that.

The siren shrieked. 

My exclamations of “Stop!  Stop!!!” fell on deaf ears.  Literally.

He tried one more time before it occurred to him that a nurse has to release the lock.

Someone finally came pressed the button behind the nurse’s station, and the little green light over the door came on.  We departed, sheepishly.

The door went shut behind us with a tired, relieved sigh, wobbling on its hinges.

If there are confused souls wandering the streets tomorrow, it will likely be entirely our fault.  No, let’s blame it on Larry.  I didn’t push hard enough on that door to unhinge anything, after all.

We decided to eat at the Rusty Taco.  I ordered a steak fajita soft-shelled taco and street corn.  The taco was good, but no bigger than the palm of your hand.  The street corn (in a very small cup) had parsley and crushed bacon bits and cayenne pepper sprinkled on top and mixed through it, and would’ve been good were it not for the regurgitated cheese stirred into it.  😜😝  (I don’t like blue cheese or feta cheese or any similar cheeses.)

I gave Larry most of the street corn.  He gave me one of his churros.  There was a tiny cup of honey to dip it into.  He also had a Texas taco, same dinky size as my taco.

We left that noisy little taco joint still hungry, so we stopped at the Dairy Queen in the next town and got a couple of Royal New York cheesecake blizzards.  That filled us up fairly well; but that’s not a supper I intend to repeat anytime soon.  And to think that Panera Bread, with its scrumptious soups, sandwiches, salads, and pizzas, was right on the other side of the lane!  We’d tried an Italian Restaurant first, but everyone except us, it seemed, had reservations, and we would’ve had to wait 45 minutes.

Today is Hannah’s 41^st birthday.  She hasn’t been well, and during the last few days has had a bad allergic reaction to the Amoxicillin she was prescribed.  We dropped off some gifts for her after church last night:  a big red glass jar with a ceramic cardinal lid, inside of which I put a set of fiber cloths and a dishcloth with netting on one side; a handled sponge dish scrubber, a pink bisque trinket box with a butterfly flexiclip inside, and a silver brooch with a mother-of-pearl cabochon inside a small red footed dish.

Then, as we did last week, we picked up some food (this time at Wendy’s), then went to Loren’s house to eat it.  I got a chicken/cranberry/pecan salad.  Larry got chicken nuggets and French fries, then discovered he could hardly eat on account of a sore in his mouth.  Fortunately, there was still a can of green beans in the cupboard.  I had long since hauled off with the can opener, but Larry found a utility knife in the garage that had a single-blade can-opener attachment.  He soon had the can open, the beans in a cup (there were no ceramic bowls), and the cup in the microwave.

We ate our food and then took out the trash, since the garbagemen come there on Monday mornings.  We accumulate a ton of trash (well, maybe only half a ton) each week in the clearing and sorting through things.  Sometimes Larry brings a pickup-load home in the middle of the week for the garbagemen (from the same company) to pick up at our house on Thursday mornings.  Good thing the garbage truck has a compactor! 

We got our respective bills a couple of days ago and found – they haven’t charged us or Loren one extra red cent!  How ’bout that.  But why is Loren’s bill always $11 less than ours?

Since we were there, Larry decided to vacuum the downstairs rugs.  While he did that, I gathered up some things to take home, and some things to donate.  I’d thought I was nearly done with anything I could do, but I somehow managed to fill the back of the Mercedes.  Mind you, I wiped off the bottom of every bin and every box I put in that vehicle, so as not to get the carpet all dirty.

When we got home, I only brought in one small box and one small bag – so that means both the Mercedes and the BMW are still full of stuff.  Mañana, I take care of that.  Or maybe even pasado mañana.

Dorcas told me that Trevor, upon reading the animated e-card we sent, wherein we wished him a ‘happy birthday with oodles of love’, promptly made up a song about ‘oodles’.

I was reminded of the stories Dorcas used to tell me as I sat sewing away (or cooking or baking) when she, at age 4, was the oldest one at home, as Keith was in first grade and Hannah was in kindergarten.  She’d stand close beside me, rocking her Favorite Dolly of the Day, and tell story after story.  Of all the children, she was the one who did that the most.

After a cold, cold week, the temperature rose into the 60s the last couple of days.  This winter, I never seemed to find time to bring the majority of my winter clothes down from the dressers in the little library and the little office upstairs and exchange them for the summer clothes that make up most of the things on the shelves in my closet.  And yet I had enough sweaters and whatnot to dress just fine each day, which goes to show I have a lot more clothes than necessary, right?

For supper tonight, I made cream of wild rice and vegetable soup.  Mmmm, it’s yummy.  Hannah gave us a variety of bags of dried soup for Christmas.  I added water, let it simmer for 20 minutes, then added the milk.

Aarrgghh, a bat just came flying through!  And I went flying out.  Out the back patio door, that is.  Why do those critters always take aim straight at my head?  And why haven’t they migrated?!  We had another one in here a couple of weeks after Christmas.  Instead of migrating, they must’ve only hibernated this year, and the warm weather brought them out of their stupors and doldrums.

I would’ve trotted on around the house and opened the front door, the better to let the flapping furry out, but Larry was out back, so he came in and did battle with the bat.  The temperature was still over 50°, so I didn’t freeze to death while I waited out the skirmish.

Bedtime!