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Thursday, May 26, 2016

Another Mom-ism

As much as she is able she tries to keep in contact with family and friends from California.  She does, when prompted, remember names and situations.

For instance; at the senior living apartment complex she'd lived in for so long there were a few neighbors she became friends with, or otherwise was acquainted with.  She does remember them and ask about them from time to time.  The apartment manager, Doris, has written her a couple of letters and kept in touch; which is very sweet.  There was one man there who was friendly, but irritating, that she remembers; Brad.  He had Parkinson's Disease, I believe, though don't quote me on that one.  He was in a wheelchair, but could use a lift to get into his truck and hold a part-time job, I think.  Or he volunteered, I am not for sure.  Anyway. 

A couple weeks ago Mom got a letter from Doris saying that Brad was in really bad shape and was waiting for a referral from his doc to be admitted into a care facility. 

Mom:  "Oh, that's too bad, I didn't know anything was wrong with him, except for what was wrong with him."

This also struck me as funny.  How could she know what was wrong with him until Doris told her?  I don't know.  She is just funny.  Sometimes I can't help but laugh; (as long as it's appropriate) and mom will laugh along.  Still cheery as ever.

Thursday, May 12, 2016


Here, in case you missed it last fall, is a pic of my mom in our new Mule.  She seems happy, waving joyfully at the camera, but afterward she admitted she wasn't quite impressed with her ride in it; "I felt like I was about to fall out the whole time."

Ha Ha.

Anyway.  She still gets kudos for being willing to try new things at age 86.  Her mind may be going, but she is willing to give most anything a try.

On the subject of her mind going.  Yes, she is quite likely in the earliest stages of dementia; very forgetful.  She will ask the same questions several times in a row, doesn't recognize her own possessions if they are out of her sight for any length of time...etc.  But she is almost always in a happy-go-lucky mood and smiling.

Even when she was younger, I can remember she'd forget phrases or names and come up with funny sayings.  One in particular I can remember is what she called the popcorn dude; Orville Dickenbocker.  hehehe...

Now she is coming up with some funny stuff again. 

Last Friday in town we were at the library.  I was inside getting books while she worked on her word search puzzles out in the car.  Well, right in front of her, maybe two cars up there was a collision at the intersection.  An older lady and a dude collided and somehow the dude's car ended up over the sidewalk about 2 inches from the library building's corner. 

I asked my mom if she'd seen it and said I hadn't even heard it when I was in the library.  "Oh, no," she said.  "I didn't hear anything until there was this big THUD!"  For some reason this struck me as hilarious. 

That's one mom-ism.  More to follow.

Thankful:  My mom is still with me, she is sill happy, she can come up with funny stuff. 

Monday, May 9, 2016

1 1/2 Inches

Yes, that's about how long that clipping of hair is. 

You'd never guess only that much hair would bring on the end of the world. 

Or seem too, at least.

My daughter, bless her heart, has this "THING" with having long hair.  She has never...even when she was too young to really care one way or the other...wanted her hair cut.  She has always wanted long hair.

So about 3 weeks ago when I suggested we trim her hair, Katy bar the door, you'd've thought I'd suggested we cut her head off instead of her hair!  I hadn't trimmed it in over a year, almost 2 years in fact, so it was uneven on the ends and rather raggedy. 

O, about carry on!  She summarily refused to agree to a trip to the hair salon, so I must needs do the dirty deed myself. 

She wailed and gnashed teeth for a while...then insisted that we get it over with ASAP, necessitating my leaving supper dishes in the sink and heading to the bathroom to accomplish the scalping.

Before and after the dirty deed she insisted on my measuring it.  So, having nothing else, I used a yardstick and got crude measurements of 24 inches before and 22 1/2 after.

I am pleased to announce that yes, she did live.  Here she is with her hair in TWO braids. 

I say "TWO" because for this whole past school year she had insisted on having only ONE braid down her back.  Her bangs have not caught up with the rest of her hair though, so they forever come wisping out of the braid and straggle all over her face. 

So after the horrific trimming event she has wanted TWO braids, and that has done wonders for keeping her bangs off of her face. 

When she can take care of her own hair I shall mightily rejoice. Yes I will.

My thankful notes:  A daughter who sticks to her principles through thick and thin.  A daughter who makes up her mind as to what she wants and sticks to that.  (Maybe those are the one and same, but who cares...this is my list!)  Braids, which are easy enough to do.  TWO braids instead of one, to keep her bangs off of her face.  A daughter willing to get an ordeal over with, even though she summarily and quite vocally disagrees with the ordeal.  LOL

Friday, April 22, 2016


On Wednesday, about...oh...maybe 3ish PM, I was fixing supper and happened to catch a glance of the palm of my hand out of the corner of my eye.

On it was written, in black Sharpie: 47 

That's all.  47
I remembered writing it there, but for the life of me I couldn't remember WHY or WHAT it stood for or WHEN I'd put it there.  I mean, that IS my age, but why the samhill would I write my age on my palm?

I finished preparing supper; we ate, did chores, went to bed.

In the course of time the 47 wore off.  But my curiosity remained.

On Thursday I pondered; off and on.  Well, Wed morning I'd gone to our Book Study.  But there are no Sharpies readily available there.  Afterward I'd stopped by my mom's.  We keep a Sharpie handy there.  Ellen uses it to mark off the days on the calendar to help my mom remember what day it is.  (Not that this works, but that's a different blog post altogether.) But why 47?


I keep a  Sharpie in the kitchen at home.  But still; 47 what? 

It really had me flummoxed.

Until today.  Friday.  48 hours later.

I had to stop at the post office in town and get a book of stamps.

Then I remembered.

On Wed morning when I left the Book Study, I ran up to the post office there in that town where the lovely lady at the PO told me the new price of 1st class stamps.

And that is the mystery of the number 47 on my palm.  And it also cured me of EVER wanting to take OTC allergy medication EVER again.  Because it was on that day I'd taken 2 of them and not only could I barely stay awake during book study, but I had trouble remembering things.  Allergy meds cause short term memory loss.  So now I am taking homeopathic allergy meds.


Wednesday, April 13, 2016

The Great Escape

Last night we had just finished eating supper...maybe about 4:30 PM, when the phone rang.  It was sister-in-law who was just getting home from work, from Lebanon way.  Here's a brief version of the conversation:

SIL:  "Yeah, I think your cows are out, down at the creek on P Highway."

ME: "What, what?"

SIL:  "They are all Holsteins and it looks like the whole herd, some are in the road."

ME, talking to hubby: "She says there's a herd of Holsteins on P Hwy at the creek."

Hubby: "It has to be them, their the only dairy cows in the area. Get the car, get going!"

ME:  "!"

SIL, half hour later:  "I asked what I could do to help, but I was talking to empty air; you'd hung up on me." 


Hubby got on the 4-wheeler and Ellen and I jumped in the car really quick and off we went.  It's not too far from us; just a mile around the corner maybe.

When we got there only 2 cows were on the highway, but yeah, aside from 2 sore-footed ones, the WHOLE HERD was down there, all FORTY THREE of them!  Fortunately, they all knew it was time to head to the barn so they didn't give him any trouble....which is why in the pic they are already headed back from the highway.

Anyway; hubby had to abandon the 4-wheeler at the far side of the pasture and walk them ALL THE WAY back.  It must have been a mile or more, I am not sure.  SIL and I had to take the Mule back by the highway to get the 4-wheeler afterward.

The cows seemed to have ambled down the creek bottoms from our place, through our fence and two other neighbors' fences.  We figure all the fences down in the bottoms were destroyed by the flood back in December and, like us, no one has had the chance to go do repairs.

Hubby said in 29 years he's never had them to do that.

And here's the understatement for the day:  Hubby spent the bulk of today fixing fences....

(And he didn't let them go down into the creek bottoms today, either!)

(I keep forgetting to do my thankful list:  This one calls for lots of thanks:  family that will help out, neighbors who will help out..there was one there at the hwy blocking traffic for a few minutes, cows to make me laugh, a husband who can hike a mile herding cows through briar and brush and still laugh afterward, cows that know their way home and are eager for feed at the end of the day, no matter how wayward they may be, a 4-wheeler and a Kawasaki Mule)