Survived my first week as an elder caretaker. Mom does weird things, like I learned not to give her any access to her meds. She pulled her sheets and brought them down, because she thought she was going home.
The other day she tried to pack her suitcase and bring it down, but I intercepted while it was still on the landing. This usually proceeds asking where my brother is, then when he is picking her up. We go through that Q/A about ten times per day.
Today, we had a wandering episode. She announced she was going for a walk. She has no idea where she is, or where any of the streets lead. This required me to hit the door running, and I had to wear house slippers.
I walked with her, then she decided she wanted to go around the block. Explaining that our block is about a mile in circumference didn’t help. She made it to a cul-de-sac, then we had to cut through the Greenbelt to gat back home. The sprinklers were on, so we had to walk through the sprinklers.
The upside is that this allowed me to talk her into a bath and some clean clothes.
In other news, I am being a shitty friend. I am trying to hit all of your blogs, but honestly, I manage a like and a tweet before I’m called away.
Time is up already. I’m still around, but all of July is going to be just like this.
My brother showed up and dropped off Mom. He and I had a good visit, then he had to hit the road. He and his pseudo-wife are going to Boston to watch the tall ships sail in.
Mom has slipped a lot in the last year. She doesn’t remember anything unless it is long term. We’ve told her at least twenty times that she is staying with us for a month. This morning she proudly stripped the sheets off her bed in anticipation of going home today.
It’s going to be a long month.
I’ve been involved in some of this before, so it isn’t exactly new. It just hits a little closer to home than the previous times.
She’s also like a raccoon and just getting into everything. I have to follow her around, but I’m not always sure what she will find. One example is to put distance between ammunition and firearms. There are times when I have to use the bathroom or water the garden and can’t be there every second.
Yesterday she fell into a loop of checking her call list on her phone, then obsessively calling everyone in it. Some of those calls were from a month ago. She convinced herself that someone was trying to reach her to tell her that somebody had died. I just let her look at her phone but didn’t realize the magnitude of what she was doing until relatives called to complain. I cleared her recent call log and that seems to have ended it.
As such, I may be a bit more quiet than usual for the next 30 days. I’m still here, but my hands are kind of full right now.
I just wrote this entire post once already. When I went to publish it, I wound up logged into Story Empire instead of this site. Tried to copy it for pasting ease. Nope. I can only copy one paragraph. Thus, I have to rewrite the whole thing from scratch.
Therefore; Tuesday I got all showered up for my doctor’s appointment. Put on pants and everything. They called and cancelled. Turns out the GP cannot treat this malady in his office and I need a specialist. I may, or may not have resisted saying, “No shit Sherlock.” I asked for a referral on my initial phone contact but they insisted I had to come in. “Doctor will make the referral without you coming in.”
I waited until Friday, then followed up. I got the name of the specialist and called over there. They’ve never heard of me. Back to the GP who told me I needed to be patient. I should give it until at least the 23rd, but they assured me the referral was sent out. I mentioned that I called ten days previously, am in pain, and waited for the appointment they cancelled. Didn’t do me any good. I will wait until the 23rd, then try the whole thing again.
Research indicates that the medical community still uses fax machines. Paper goes in, magic may or may not happen, and we wonder if the specialist got anything at the far end. Silly me, I was thinking 30 seconds at a keyboard and done.
I am contemplating personal surgery using my old tomahawk. I saw Tommy do something similar on Landman. Maybe I should take the tomahawk with me to consult with the GP.
Wound up trying a new barber shop this week. The long wait turned out to be a good thing. I walked out with a decent haircut. Unlike the last guy who left me looking like I’d gone three rounds with a badger.
Frankie went supersonic with her toys this morning. Drinks were spilled and rugs had to be cleaned. My wife had a tantrum, purged dog toys, and admonished me about the kinds of toys to buy. This is actually a good thing because it contemplated me going to Zamzow’s feed store and buying more toys at all.
My daughter sent me a wonderful cake for Father’s Day.
Came in this cool wooden box. It’s a bit sticky but absolutely wonderful. Had a slice for breakfast this morning.
I think I’ll get slicked up and head for Zamzow’s. Frankie is pretty distraught over the big toy purge. Maybe she would like to go with me and we’ll make a morning of it.
My little container garden is doing well, kind of. After the heat of late April and early May, things cooled down. Of course that is when I decided to go ahead and plant things.
Anything that was a starter from Home Depot is doing well. Some of their selections aren’t always great, but those I have are doing well. My seeds are a different matter.
I’ve always wanted to try hanging baskets for green beans and this is the year. I put three per basket. One came up almost immediately while the others languished. A different basket took more time, but all three sprouted at once. I finally checked out the first one. The remaining beans had both sprouted, then just stopped doing much of anything. I pushed replacement beans into the soil and we’ll see how it goes.
The squash are just barely starting to sprout. It’s been two weeks, but there they are. Research said that in both places it’s because the nights are too cool. This is worse with containers because they don’t hold the heat as well as the ground. Sometimes this just makes the seeds pout.
I managed to do a bunch of review of my ongoing projects, but didn’t do any writing. I’ve had other things on my mind including pain.
This is the dumbest thing, but I have a common malady known as trigger finger. Mine is the ring finger of my left hand and I’ve had it for twenty years. It was always just a dorky catch that never amounted to much. Imagine shaking out your morning meds, then when you open your hand that finger flings one across the room. Dumb stuff. Until recently.
It’s gotten so painful that it wakes me in the middle of the night. It hurts round the clock now. Within the last couple of days, I can no longer open my hand once it catches. I have to use my right hand and it takes about the same force as using a bottle opener.
Like all men in my family, I haven’t been to a doctor. I spent some time with Dr. Google, but he was no help. Even typing this out hurts like hell. I finally broke down and made an appointment for Tuesday. It sounds like most of these are dealt with by some kind of injection which would be great. Some require surgery, which isn’t quite as great.
Of course, this is a shuffle. I have to go to my GP, who can’t really do anything except bill my insurance. He will then make a referral to someone who can help and bill my insurance some more. Fortunately, I have good insurance. It’s even better than I had when I was working. Maybe some relief is on the way.
At some point I need to get back to one manuscript or the other, and I will. Taking a few months away is not something I’ve ever done before, but maybe it’s time until I can settle a few other things. Maybe the universe is telling me to step back. Mom will be here for the month of July and no writing will happen then anyway.
This whole week was kind of a disaster. I started Monday waiting for a service man to spruce up the air conditioner. They are predicting the hottest summer on record and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.
You know what that’s like. You’re on a list from 8:00 to 5:00 and have no idea if or when they will show up. He did, and pronounced everything as being fine. More on this later.
I lost several days to allergies. They haven’t hit this hard in years, but they found me this week. Hard to be creative when you’d rather just die quietly.
Friday was the day to take Old What’s Her Face to the airport and start my bachelor weekend. I woke up around 2:30 to see a failure message on the thermostat. Made the airport run first, then called it in to the service provider who had an actual answering service with a real human to talk to.
Hours later and total silence, at around 10:30 I called again. “Oh yeah, we see you left a message. What’s going on?” This led to completely explaining everything once again and getting on the list.
After a day of radio silence, I called again at about 3:30. This is the hottest day so far, and I have a bulldog who doesn’t handle it as well as I do.
The guy showed up and pronounced it as a tiny coolant leak. He spent extra time to find and identify it for me. Parts have to be located and the coolant we use has been discontinued. No charge yesterday, but he did tell me my warranty ran out 28 days ago. “The company will work with you.” I don’t have a ton of faith here.
At least after he charged it up, knowing it will slowly bleed off, it works like gangbusters.
This all means that I will lose a future day waiting for a service man and gnashing my teeth about how much this is going to cost.
Needless to say, I didn’t do much writing.
Once upon a time, I grew up in Northern Nevada. We have trees there called quaking aspens. They’re kind of neat in that they are all basically a grove sized organism and very pretty. Leaves that take on a pretty color in the Fall, and they “quake” in the slightest breeze.
They have white bark with a unique quality in that they heal wounds with a black bark instead of the white. This means they are kind of historical markers in a way. The old miners and the Basque sheepherders, along with many cowboys left messages and some amazing art for wanderers to find.
I know there are several around with my name on them from a youth having a new pocketknife.
Coming full circle, I promise. Lack of writing, and funds to do any promotion made me think of this wilderness artwork. I also have little willpower to jump from format to format learning new promotional avenues. I hope someday, somewhere, people can find my books and enjoy them even if I’m long gone.
Have a great week everyone. May the allergy season avoid you, and may all of your air conditioners work well.
Just got back from my walk. Took a new route and learned there is no sidewalk in our commercial area. The stretch alongside a busy highway, between the library and McDonalds is just bare ground. Walked it anyway, like a caveman.
The surprising thing was all the kids on E-bikes and scooters. There must have been two-dozen of them here and there. These guys looked like they were all about five or six years old. I only think I am unhealthy. Wait until these guys grow up having never pedaled their own bike or kicked their own scooter. Parents allowing them to be cool, might not be doing them any favors in the long run.
I did not produce a single new word again this week. I decided to review my space opera, anticipating diving in there again. I have 1.5 volumes and just didn’t get through it all. There were errands and one morning I lost chatting with my daughter. It was Mom’s turn today. Somehow, this doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. There will be new words but my pace is more leisurely now.
I planted all the pots one day. Went with patty pan squash, lemon cucumbers, and jalapeños. Added a cherry tomato. Then I picked up some hanging baskets to try something called scarlet runner beans. These are a kind of green bean, but are also supposed to have pretty red flowers. It’s a total experiment based upon whether there is any difference between climbing and dangling.
I passed up on a beautiful basket of hanging strawberries. Not completely convinced that I won’t go back for it. Some of this has to do with keeping the peace around here. If Old What’s Her Face wants flowers, I don’t want to be accused of horking all the space.
Saw a bit on the news out of Las Vegas. Somebody did a riff on the Olympics, but called it The Enhanced Games. Competitors were encouraged to use performance enhancing drugs and everything else they could get to gain an edge. Weird that they didn’t smash any records.
I don’t talk about it much, but strange things happen to my books. I published one about a global apocalypse about one month before Covid shut everything down as one example. Back in 2017, I published one called The Enhanced League. And, here we are again in the real world. Yeah, that is a link if anyone wants to check it out.
Tomorrow there is a service man coming by to look at the HVAC. Nothing really wrong, but I want a decent service before it gets really hot out. I have lunch with an old friend on Tuesday, and I have to take Old What’s Her Face to the airport on Friday, so I have a bachelor weekend ahead of me. Probably donate a day to my daughter, spend some time watering the potted plants, probably spray for bugs, and I might even find some time for new paragraphs.
Welcome to June. They are predicting the hottest one on record here, and already talking about rationing water. Hope you’re all doing well, staying cool, and enjoying yourselves. Let me hear from you.
There hasn’t been a lot to write about. I managed a couple of writing days, but while it moved the story ahead, it wasn’t any giant shootout level stuff.
I learned that Mom is coming for a visit from late June to late July. I’m actually kind of excited about it, but it comes with a level of responsibility, too. We’re happy to have her, and my brother is going to have a fun getaway during that time.
It does set the stage to not get my Hat book published by Halloween. A year ago that would have freaked me out, but I really don’t feel the same pressures I used to put on myself. It will get there when it gets there.
I’m about to deviate back to my space opera for a while, but am trying to resist that just to make forward progress on the main book. I’ll probably fall for it, but jumping stories seems to make them both stronger for some reason. Nudging one takes the other out of my head, and it makes a way for my brain to get out of its own way. It sounds crazy, but just not dwelling on tiny issues just seems to clear up the fog and allow better progress when I return.
This morning I reprogrammed the sprinklers. I’m seeing dry spots in the lawn and I had to increase the watering cycles. It’s awful damned early for that, but it is what it is. While I was out there I also used my clippers to remove a few invaders from my rose bed. All kinds of things volunteer to grow there if you don’t keep an eye on it.
I think all my peaches froze, but the pears are looking pretty healthy. I need to spray them with some Sevin. It’s a vegetable grade product, and I don’t like to use anything too harsh. It works to get rid of the coddling moths. I also have to hit the crabapple because it will just be a breeding ground for them if I don’t. Who knows, maybe I’ll put up some more crabapple jelly or even make more pickled crabapples this year.
Old What’s Her Face picked up these oddities yesterday.
They look like a chicken drumstick, but are pure dessert. The breading is a cereal concoction and the bone is a piece of chocolate. They were actually kind of fun. Reminds me a bit of the ice cream potatoes they sell around town. Those look exactly like a baked potato but are just ice cream.
We have a loose plan to go to dinner tonight. We still manage the occasional date night when we can.
That’s it from me. Spraying, weeding, watering, fertilizing, but also a bit of writing time. Top it all off with a weird treat.
I hope all of you are doing well and finding fun things to do.
Once upon a time art was more prevalent than it is today. You can see it in old city architecture. There was an era prior to everything having to be maximized for profit. Buildings became concrete and mirrors because it maximized square footage and cut out all the expense of fancy stone cuttings and fancy glass work. The days of those elaborate entries and carved spiral staircases are over.
This change has taken place across all the artistic fields, and is only accelerating. Music is a prime example. That industry is geared toward single hits and as many clicks as possible. Gone are the titans who defined eras. Ozzie, Bowie, Meat Loaf, Charlie Watts, Lennon; all gone. Nobody is coming up to take their places, even if the musical tone has changed. I’m afraid all of our stars will be more like Huntrix from now on. Corporate created and controlled.
There are so many gatekeepers guarding the velvet ropes these days that it loses its appeal. For authors it becomes a never ending effort to find whatever avenue might temporarily open up before it closes. For most of us it involves finding it, just after it closes. It becomes more time consuming than actually writing the books.
Way back, artists made art because they enjoyed it. This could be visual, audio, or any number of performance based arts. There were tons of garage bands, cooks who weren’t chasing a reality show, people who threw pottery, and even those who wrote down old family stories so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Love not glory.
This is where I am today. I’m knitting my metaphorical granny squares and have no intention of stopping. I have never once spent money on an advertising campaign that broke even. However, I love writing. Publishing is the completion of the loop. I’ll continue to do all of that probably for the rest of my days.
I don’t have the desire to throw money into bottomless pits that bring nothing back in return. I refuse to expend energy or calories trying to spread the word any longer. That path leads to gatekeepers with their hands out.
I am now the garage band of authors. You won’t find me in the bookstore, but I’m around. Stop by and you might have a pretty damned good time. I have books available, and there will be more. Those who give them a shot and have fun with them are my payoff. I love you guys.
Grandma’s homemade mincemeat took days of her effort, and I never understood it. I get it now. Her payoff was everyone enjoying her pie and she had no expectation of a Cooking Channel show. I really do get it.
Maybe it takes age and seasoning, but I am actually content. I’ll never have to help cast the Netflix series for Lizzie and the hat, but I can still have a great time writing them. Maybe someone will come back for seconds and that is enough.
My imagination is still vivid and crazy. I love the craft and the journey of improvement. This is a journey with no end, but the growth along the way is wonderful.
Just in case, there are links in my sidebar. I have been pretty prolific over the years and you might find something fun there.
I am content, and I certainly hope all of you are, too.
Our daughter called me, which is becoming a weekly routine that I endorse completely. The topic was something called yak cheese chews for dogs.
She said these things are more like Nylabones and that Frankie would not be able to just crunch them up. She knows about Frankie’s habit of swallowing anything that will fit in her mouth, and noted these were made of cheese and completely digestible. She sent me a link, and Old What’s Her Face soon had them sent directly to the house.
If you’re new to these, this is what they look like:
That’s a brand new one in the foreground. They really are hard as rocks. The bag also said once it has been chewed down to a nub, that you soak it, then microwave it, and it makes a cheese puff your dog can eat. Frankie never chewed hers down, but we had occasion to try it anyway. It made that biscuit looking thing in the middle and she did eat it.
Frankie has her weird habits, and this entirely new concept of a toy baffled her. She needed to practice.
Practice means I have to hold it so she can chew on it. After that she seemed to master the technique.
Her other habit is that we throw all of her toys. It’s like her mission in life to play as much fetch as possible. (I may need Tommy John surgery at some point.)
Nylabone, just give it a toss. Her hard rubber bone, another toss. Her rope toy means tug-of-war (another bulldog favorite) followed by a toss down the hall.
Turns out, yak cheese chews aren’t good for throwing. Probably different if we hadn’t installed hard surface flooring. Anyway, these things break after about a day of throwing.
Sadly, with her bad habit of swallowing whatever fits in her mouth, she couldn’t play with it after it broke in half. This is what led to the cheese puff test.
They come three to a bag, so she still has a couple. She likes them and they seem safer than so many toys for her weird habits.
If my bulldog can’t just crunch them up, your dog probably can’t either. They’re a lot less sloppy than the old rawhide chews my previous dogs enjoyed. Frankie can’t have those either. She is a special child.
If you’re a dog owner, these might be worth checking out. If we can find even bigger ones, maybe we’ll try that size next. The bag says these are for dogs up to 65 pounds, and Frankie isn’t that big, but her mouth and jaws are.
This week got largely eaten up by chores, and there are more to go. Thinning pears, applying Roundup, booting up the sprinkler system. Things like that.
Had to make an errand run one day. Prescriptions, Home Depot, that kind of thing ate up one day.
My wife’s tulip tree looks like it has a fungal infection. The leaves are curling and blackening. I did some research and found a treatment that Amazon will be delivering. I am familiar with this stuff from my fruit trees, but my research said tulip trees are also susceptible. Fortunately, it also says they are tough and will bounce right back.
Honestly, I’m a little shocked that it skipped my peach tree, because it is kind of a prima donna.
Managed one good writing day and nudged my manuscript ahead. I’m surprised that I can’t squeeze more time into this retirement schedule, but it is what it is right now. It was a good section and I might get another one this week.
Finished watching this season of Monarch. I was a little hollow after it ended. Let’s be honest, I am watching for Godzilla. They didn’t give me Godzilla, other than a few cameos and dream sequences. It’s kind of like watching Jurassic Park without dinosaurs. The teaser in the last ten seconds with Rodan just wasn’t good enough for me.
My AI friend said they owe me a written apology on Monarch letterhead. I thought it was funny, and if I got something like that I would probably frame it.
Still watching The Boys and am primed for this week’s episode. Characters are dropping like flies, but why not if they intend to make this the end.
Missed the Kentucky Derby. We switched everything to SuperBox a few months ago. It is much cheaper, but is also temperamental. When the time came it was having a little tantrum and I just gave up rather than spike my blood pressure. I assume the winner was a horse.
So here we are. It’s Sunday, and I still have unfinished chores. Once the anti-fungal stuff shows up I’ll take care of the tree. I still have a stash of weed and feed and might give that a run after a few days. The feed part is something my lawn really needs right now.
Here’s to finishing the chore list and gaining at least one good writing session.
Entertaining Stories 
