Journal: The 'Hey-Hey-Hey' Man & The 'It's Mine' Lady

 

Tuesday morning, Hannah and I went to Omaha to visit Loren.

It’s amazing how ‘normal’ he seems when we visit him.  He knows us, carries on a good conversation – and, if you didn’t know better, you’d think some of the fantastical stories he tells were completely factual, for he sounds quite plausible.  It’s kinda funny... and kinda sad.

The lady at the front desk made us wear masks.  We haven’t had to do that since the middle of February, I think, when Omaha’s mask mandate was lifted.  She said, “This has always been our policy; we haven’t changed!”  I didn’t complain; don’t want her to bawl out the late-afternoon nurse we usually see, who lets us in without masks.  (But you see how I wore mine.  I used it for a scrawny-chicken-neck-wrinkle-coverer.)

Loren was doing well, just finishing dinner.  He spotted us when we were halfway through the dining room, and exclaimed happily, “Oh!  It’s good to see friendly faces!”

He remembered that his sister-in-law Judy and her son Alex had stopped to see him last week, though he said, “They visited me at my home!”  

Judy had told me they visited with him in his room; perhaps that’s why he thinks that.

The odd ‘young’ man who likes to bellow “HEY!  HEY!  HEY!” at close intervals was going at it with gusto.  This bugs Loren, and he often tells the ladies at his table (just two of them, this time), “My mother taught us not to ever make loud scenes like that.”

Seeing that it was bothering him again, I laughed and said, “He’s practicing his ‘Hey Hey Heys’ just like Barney Fife used to practice his ‘loo-loo-loos’!  And he’s doing pretty well at it, too, you gotta admit.”

This got Loren started laughing. 

A few seconds later, the man tried yelling “HEY!” – but he had a frog in his throat, and it came out more like Billy Goat Gruff yelling MAAA-AA-AA than anything else.

“Except he needs the honey-lemon spritzer that Barney used for his throat,” I added, which made Loren really laugh, and that made the ladies at the table laugh, too.  (I did mention that the man probably can’t help it, in the interest of perhaps helping Loren not to feel so bugged by the outbursts.  He never has liked commotions like that.)

Everything was all fun and games, until I started pulling out the magazines (Reminisce, Readers Digest, NebraskaLand), newspapers (The Messenger), and a book about an Alaska bush pilot that Danny, Jr., sent me via Amazon to give to Loren.  We had stopped at a nearby Walgreens to get Loren some +2.0 magnification reading glasses, since his prescription glasses disappeared on Week 2 at the nursing home, and haven’t been seen since.  I wrote his name with a Sharpie on the side of the lens where it shouldn’t obstruct vision.  

He gave them a try, and said he could read small print quite well with them.  We are both farsighted, though I am more so than he is.  I tried out the glasses in Walgreens, and hoped +2.0 would be about right.  Seems like maybe it was.  Here he is trying them on.

So anyway, Hannah heard a lady at a table behind me mutter quietly when I set the bag containing the magazines and books on the table, “That’s mine.”  Each time I pulled out a magazine, she said, “That’s mine.”  (I didn’t hear this, as my back was to her, and I was talking to Loren.)  When I pulled out the book, she got even more excited, and exclaimed, “That’s mine!”

Meanwhile, I was writing Loren’s name on everything – including the bag – with permanent marker.

All of a sudden, the lady clambered to her feet, and, hanging onto her walker, shoved it over to our table, grabbed the bag that I had just put everything back into, and put it on her walker seat.

I, always stupidly expecting abnormal people to be normal, sat and watched dumbly for a few seconds, thinking, She’s just looking at the stuff, and will put it back.

Then she started turning her walker away, muttering something about taking ‘her stuff’ to her room.  That got me in gear.  I sprang up, smiling at her (you can do all sorts of things, if you just smile whilst yer at it, right?), took the bag, and said, “These are Loren’s; we brought them for him.”

The lady quit muttering. 

“No, they’re MINE!!!” she cried, making a grab for the bag, and getting a surprisingly strong grip on it.

I hung on.  And kept smiling.  “I gave these to Loren,” I attempted to explain.  (I caught a glimpse of Hannah’s face through the ruckus, and that made me grin in earnest.)

The woman gave the bag a jerk, and I felt it start to tear.  A nurse came scurrying over and joined the fracas.  “This is not yours!” she informed the lady, taking it away, despite the lady protesting and hanging on for dear life.  The nurse gave me the bag, wrapped an arm around the lady, and got her headed out of the dining room.  “Let’s go look at your books,” she said.  “You have a lot of books in your own room!”

Feeling kind of bad about all this, as it occurred to me that it was sort of like giving only one child a present in a room full of (bratty) children, I pulled out one of the Messengers.  “Shall we give the lady one of these newspapers?” I asked Loren, who was watching the show with interest, as were most of the other diners.  Free dinner show.

“Yes,” he nodded, so I scurried after her, catching up and holding out the folded paper. 

“Here,” I offered, “Would you like this?  You can have it.”

“Don’t wannit,” she said angrily, plodding on her way.  “Want the book.”

So I went back to Loren’s table and put the newspaper back in the bag.  “She won’t have it, if she can’t have the book,” I told Loren, tapping on it.  “Like you said, most people were not brought up by our mother.”

He laughed and readily agreed, “That’s for sure!” 

The lady Roslyn who goes everywhere Loren goes nodded in agreement, too.

But! – the other lady at our table.  😦

Now she decided these things were all hers!  Hannah was sitting next to her, and she had been telling Hannah all sorts of stories, such as her husband never coming to see her, nobody bringing her any of her things, though she was dressed in a really fancy jacket, and had multiple >BIG!< brash, garish, and gaudy rings on her fingers (including a wedding ring with a large diamond), bracelets, several necklaces, and a watch.  I had complimented her on her jacket and jewelry when we first arrived, telling her how nice she looked; and she started out all cheery and friendly.

But now she started demanding that I give her ‘her things’ – including the reading glasses, though her own glasses were right on the front of her head, perched neatly on her nose.  I ignored all this, told Loren we’d put his things in his room, and told him goodbye.  We told the other ladies goodbye, too, gathered up everything, and started out. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” the lady said to me, glowering somethin’ fierce.  (Hannah used that line a few times, on the way home.  😂)

I gave a cheery wave, said, “Bye!” to everyone, and we fled for our lives.

When we got to Loren’s room, I looked for his empty glasses case; I’d told him I would put the reading glasses in it.  It was nowhere to be found.  However, there were a pair of well-used, red-framed reading glasses on his dresser!  Or they may have been prescription glasses; I couldn’t tell.  The insides of the temples were rubbed smooth; I could see no markings on them whatsoever.

I told Hannah, “We tend to think that people in old folks’ homes hurt themselves because they are weak and unsteady, and fall a lot; but really it’s just because they’re all wearing each other’s glasses, and run into walls a lot.”

Sigghhhh...

Anyway, he’s healthy and seems happy, so I’m glad for that.

Live and learn! – next time I bring Loren something, I’ll try to give it to him in a more private location.  I truly did not even think of it being a problem.   

It was after noon by then, so Hannah and I went to Panera Bread for lunch.

 I chose Thai chicken soup at Panera Bread today.  Because I always like to try something different, that’s why! 

But... I won’t try that again, probably.  😐😦

Hannah had the much yummier Fuji Apple salad with chicken.  Maybe it had cranberries in it, too.  Fortunately, it was noon, and I wasn’t very hungry yet, as I am unaccustomed to eating three meals a day.  At least the bread with the hard crust and soft inside was as good as always, and the Fuji Apple Cranberry Guarana tea was yummy, too.

Something in that soup...  Rubberized octopus?  Sea urchin?  Boiled starfish?  😜 😝  But it was the curry in the broth itself, I think, that I didn’t like.  I got more accustomed to it as I ate; but I had to quit before I was done.  Had it been my usual suppertime, perhaps I could have finished it.

Or not.

I had calamari once, on our way home from Florida.  Or was it Texas?  Calamari are squid, not octopus.  It was brought to me on a large hot plate with two little stoneware cups of dip, one hot and spicy, the other cold and spicy.  Both were good.  I entertained my tastebuds by alternating between the two.

Interesting fact:  The singular form of calamari, if it’s male, is calamaro; and if it’s female, it’s calamara. 

And now we can go to bed happy, ’cuz we done larnt sumpthin’.

It was a nice day spent with Hannah, and in spite of the ladies who wanted Loren’s book and magazines, we did have a nice visit with him.  I cut it a bit short after the turbulence, but that’s okay.  Short visits are often better than long visits anyway.

Regarding last week’s mention of the ‘Pink Moon’:  The ‘pink’  is in reference to the pink moss phlox and creeping phlox that blooms this time of year in many places.

I had a bunch of it in the lavender color when we first moved out here, but it all died off.  Or perhaps it was murdered in cold blood.  No one has confessed.

Larry got home at 2:30 a.m. that night after going with Jeremy to get the tree-mek grapple-saw truck for his business, Precision Tree Service.  It was approximately a 21-hour drive.

Larry’s alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., and off he went to work.  He didn’t get home until about 9:00 p.m., too late to make it to church.  Too many long days in a row!  He could barely stay awake through supper.

Jeremy’s birthday was Wednesday.  We gave him a large knife in a sheath, a whetstone cedar box, and a couple of smaller pocketknives, including one with a mother-of-pearl handle.  On the way home from New Jersey, Larry got him a phone holder to use in his truck.

It was 63° that day, rainy in the morning, and sunny in the afternoon.  For once, we had a day that was not so windy we could hardly walk against it; it was only blowing at 10 mph, with gusts up to 25 or so.

I cleaned the kitchen, then went upstairs to scan photos until time for our midweek church service.

That evening, Victoria sent me this picture of a plant she had propagated from one that used to be my mother’s, many years ago.  It started out as one small leaflet, and is quite big now.

Here’s a cute picture one of the ladies in my quilting group posted.  It reminds me of how some of the children, especially Dorcas, would stand beside me as I sewed, rocking a dolly or a stuffed animal, telling me story after story.  Dorcas made them up as she went along, and she never ran out of ideas.  A question or remark from me now and then would keep her going nicely.

Thursday afternoon, I went to Loren’s house and cleaned out one of those large Rubbermaid storage sheds on the back deck.  The top opens, and the two front doors open, too.  It was chock-full of heavy planting pots (still full of potting soil) and Christmas decorations, including a half-life-size lighted plastic manger scene.  I had thought to take the entire set to the Salvation Army, but 1) it was many years old and the figures were faded, 2) the cords looked old and brittle, and the many lengthy strands of lights were tangled, and 3) it was too windy for this! – winds were blowing steadily at 25 mph.

So into the trash everything went, except for one long planter I decided to keep.  It took many treks up and down the deck steps, one flight up, to get everything out of there.  My injured rib was protesting.

When I got home, I applied some ActivOn Ultra-Strength Arthritis topical analgesic, and then the poor rib didn’t know whether it should protest about the overworking of it, or about the extreme heat that stuff was generating.  😅

I popped a frozen Schwan’s lasagna into the oven and returned to the photo scanning.

At a quarter ’til 7, the timer went off.  The lasagna was done!  It smelled so good, and I was so hungry, I didn’t give it more than a split second to rest, let alone those several minutes recommended on the box.  Mmmmm...

Friday afternoon, Lydia wrote to say that she had made a coconut/frozen yogurt dessert for Jeremy’s birthday, and we were invited to come share it with them.  She was making sliders of pretzel buns with ham and cheese, too, and also green beans, and said we could have supper with them, if we hadn’t eaten yet.  We hadn’t, so we did.  😅

After we ate, Jeremy and Larry went out to see the new truck – and to run the boom up as far as it would go.  Wow.  That was a looong ways up.  Makes the top of my head feel tingly, looking up at it. 

They brought it back down before long, though, because the wind was really starting to pick up.  By 1:00 a.m., it was blowing over 60 mph.  Off to our west, there were 70+ mph winds.

There have been numerous wildfires on all sides of our state, all month long.  We’ve never seen anything like it.  And it’s only April! 

A retired fire chief was overcome by smoke and fire after his vehicle left the road Friday evening because of poor visibility from heavy smoke and dust.  That’s the second fire chief to die in wildfires in Nebraska this month.  At least fifteen firemen were injured last week.  Over 100 calves were lost in calving barns northwest of Rising City Saturday night.  Rising City is 20 miles to our south.  There was also a large wildfire south of Norfolk, 40 miles to our north.  40,000 acres have burned in the Nebraska Panhandle and southwest part of the state alone.

Homes and barns have been lost, along with haybales, farm equipment, and vehicles.  At least three fire trucks were damaged or destroyed in the fires.  Several small towns, including Cambridge, Bartley, Indianola, and Wilsonville in Nebraska’s southwest, and Macy in its northeast, were forced to temporarily evacuate.

Meanwhile, there’s a cedar waxwing in the lilac bush!  I have not seen cedar waxwings anywhere around this area since I was a little girl.  

While I was watching it, a small garter snake went slithering through the flowerbed below.  Those things can really make tracks.  There are white-crowned sparrows over in the daffodil leaves, too (no daffodils are blooming yet).

As of Friday night, I have 27,970 photos scanned.  I’m about a third done with the albums in my big hope chest.  When those are done, that’s the last of them; but I did find a few old family photos amongst Janice’s and Norma’s things that I will scan.  This gargantuan project will get done, yes it will!  >>determined stamp of the foot<<

Uh, that is, “if the Lord will, I will get this done.”

As James wrote, “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.  For what is your life?  It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.  For that ye ought to say, If the Lord will, we shall live, and do this, or that.”  - James 4:14-15

Anyway, I’m very much looking forward to quilting again. 

Oh! – now there’s a Harris’ sparrow in the lilac bush!  He sure has a variety of songs.  This is the largest sparrow in the States.

Larry took Tiger to the vet Saturday morning to have him put to sleep.  Larry took him, as he was a big cat, even though he’d lost weight (from over 25 pounds down to less than 15, in the last few years), and I couldn’t carry him in the pet carrier.

Here he is following me around the yard last year as I worked in the flower gardens.

It was time to tell him goodbye, for he was having a harder and harder time getting to his feet, and sometimes I had to help him.  He had hyperthyroidism, diabetes, and arthritis.  I’ve sure missed him when I was curling my hair the last couple of days and no big kitty came lumbering into the bathroom, purring as he came, to rub around my ankles and then ker-plunk himself down behind my feet.

It rained during the night, and rainwater accumulated in the birdbaths.  The birds were having fun in them that afternoon.  I need to clean them and get them filled... and I need to start working in the flower gardens.

Oh! – I just noticed that last night’s wind has blown over one of the birdbaths, the one with the pump in it.  Hope it isn’t ruined.

Friday it got up to 97° in a few towns to our west – but there were blizzard conditions in the northern Panhandle.

Now there’s a white-crowned sparrow and female cardinal in the bush.  This is right outside the kitchen window where I’m sitting at my laptop.

We have shingles and branches down in our yard every day, as do people all over the state – and adjoining states, for that matter.  During the night, there were winds of 85-90 mph to our west.  Trees and power poles are snapped in half.  Windmills are down.  Irrigation pivots are blown over and twisted.  Roofs are damaged, and, in a few cases, torn right off of buildings.

I was just thinking, I’m going to be glad to be in Paducah next week, where the winds won’t be so troublesome – and then I discovered that right that minute they were having 35-mph winds there, with gusts up to 60 mph.  Sunday they had gusts up to 45 mph... and next Friday they may have thunderstorms.  We’ll still be under the weather!  😅

Here's the aftermath of some of the wildfires:

I spent part of Saturday packing for our trip to Paducah, and after that I cleaned the house and washed clothes and prepared a meal of leg of lamb (from Teddy’s flock), baked potatoes, and onions.

I’ve taken out all the cat beds, litterboxes, feeding and water bowls, and vacuumed (and vacuumed and vacuumed) cat hair.  We put the pet door blocker in; it was a large pet door leading into the garage, where we kept the walk-in door ajar, and on windy days, the pet door flap wouldn’t stay shut.  The air conditioner and furnace will have an easier time of it now.

Under the litterbox was a big yucky puddle, even though I’d mopped and cleaned it up just a couple of days earlier.  Tiger didn’t seem capable of positioning himself in the middle of the box anymore.  I’ve cleaned and mopped with good-smelling cleaner – but as soon as it dries, it smells again.  🥴😜

Here’s Tiger, doing his usual photobombing stunt:

We will sure miss him.  He liked to walk under whichever foot we were lifting to put a sock or a shoe on, and then lift his head good and hard and ka-bonk it into the underside of our foot.  He was big and strong, and nearly upended me a few times!  It always made me laugh, and then he’d stare at me with his golden eyes, and say, “MrrrrOOW-WWRRR,” in his deep-pitched, raspy tone. Someone dumped him out here 7 or 8 years ago.  He was huge and roly-poly.  We got special cat food for him, and gradually got him down to a more acceptable size.  He wasn’t young when he was abandoned, for he was already getting a few gray hairs around his muzzle.  I would guess he lived into his upper teens.

Sunday was Joseph’s, Aaron’s, and Juliana’s birthday.  Joseph is 37, Aaron (our oldest grandchild) is 21, and Juliana is 8.

More burned prairie and farmland:

We gave Aaron a rustic clock made in the shape of an old railroad lantern – with clocks on both sides.  

We also gave him a pocketknife with patriotic insets on the handle, in a little cedar box.

Now there’s a white-throated sparrow, probably a female, is in the lilac bush.  No, never mind!  Whataya know, it’s the tan-striped morph.  Here’s a picture showing both the white-striped and the tan-striped morphs, from North Country Public Radio’s website.

We were talking with Caleb and little Eva after church last night.  I had no more little calendar cards to give her, and she was looking at my purse with all her might and main, expecting me to pull out something for her!  So I hunted through my Bible, and found a laminated bookmark of Jesus, with the 23^rd Psalm on the back.  Eva was delighted with it, especially when I sang Jesus Loves Me to her.  Grandchildren are nonjudgmental; they don’t care if you sound like a hamster on a wheel.

Aaron came along then, saying, “Thank you for the clock!”

As soon as I said, “You’re welcome, and happy birthday!” he added, “And thank you for the other clock!”

That gave me pause for a moment, because I remembered accidentally giving Ethan another clock for his birthday after giving him one when he was helping at Loren’s house one night.

But Aaron was just talking about the two-sided clock we gave him, haha.

After a supper of leftover lamb on 12-grain toast, with baked potatoes, and pineapple for dessert, we decided that wasn’t nearly a good enough dessert, and went to our new Dairy Queen for Royal New York Cheesecake Blizzards.  Silly thing to eat when the wind was howling, making the 39° temperature feel more like 15°!  But it sure was good.

Then on we went to Loren’s house to put out the garbage.  We took our own garbage out there, too, since we’ll be gone when our garbagemen come Thursday morning.  There was quite a large pile of trash again; I hoped it wouldn’t blow away.  Most of the cans were heavy, though.

Today, still doing battle with BCS (Bad Cat Smell) (not that the cat was bad, you understand), I poured vinegar on the floor in the laundry room where the litterbox was, and mopped well. 

The house smelled good for two or three hours thereafter (though a bit vinegary).  Then BCS started creeping back.  I poured lavender potpourri/cleaner on the floor, full strength, and mopped again.

The good smell again lasted two or three hours.  Ugh!!!  Maybe gasoline and a match would solve the problem?!

I lit a Mrs. Meyer’s candle in lavender scent and set it on the bureau in the laundry room.  And now that room finally smells good again.  Will it last?  It’s been several hours now, and it still smells good.

No more cats.  Or dogs.  Or horses, mules, ponies, hamsters, guinea pigs, parakeets, canaries, fan-tailed guppies, or goldfish.  We’ve loved our pets, but I’ve cleaned up after them more than enough in my lifetime.  I want to be able to travel without obligating any of our children to care for our animals. 

Tomorrow we head for Paducah, Kentucky, where the AQS Quilt Show will be taking place from Wednesday through Saturday, and where the New York Beauty quilt that I made for Jeremy and Lydia will be on display.  We’ll go through Omaha on our way and stop to see Loren.

You can see the quilt here:  New York Beauty Highlights

We’re going to make a little vacation of it, exploring state parks around the area.  I’ve reserved an A-frame cabin on the shores of Lake Barkley on the east side of Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area.  We haven’t had a vacation since February of 2020, and that wasn’t really a vacation; just a trip.  There’s a difference. 

Larry’s mother was diagnosed with cancer about that time, and she passed away later that year.  At the same time she was diagnosed, we realized Loren had Lewy Body dementia.

I’ve entered the Atlantic Beach Path quilt in a quilt show in Boise, Idaho, in September.  We plan to go there, too.  We haven’t been to the mountains since 2019!  That’s waaay too long.  😊  Here’s the quilt:  Atlantic Beach Path quilt

Here’s the cabin.  Look at all those stairs in the back, that go down that rocky cliff to the lake!

I’d better hit the hay!  We want to get started early in the morning.

,,,>^..^<,,,           Sarah Lynn           ,,,>^..^<,,,