Happy Summer

 

Electronic Monitoring Device

 You guys, if this isn't indicative of how this whole past few years have gone, nothing is.

I wrote a whole gdamn post, was editing it by flipping back and forth between Post Editor: Preview and the draft.  Then something happened and now it's simply only a lower case "I" being displayed.  I hit the undo button, I returned to the drafts page, to no avail.

Luckily my little I.T. nerd brain told me to go to my browser history.  There is my draft preview, whew.

EXCEPT I cannot copy and paste the text.  I can only screenshot it because according to the internet, I'm seeing a ghost page right now.

But I'm surely not going to attempt to rewrite the entire post, that isn't happening. If you see a grammatical error, no you didn't.  I'm not even going to write a closing paragraph. I'm sorry to Mrs. Hoffman, my sophomore year composition teacher, I just can't risk it.

Here is the post, even though it's formatted weird and will make me squint for all of eternity.

Fridays, Between 3:30 and 4:00

 I haven't written a Raising Parents post in a while so it feels like it's time to catch everyone up with the adventure that is caring for an elderly parent.

So, one of the things that have helped settle the father-in-law into this new lifestyle is DoorDash.  Every Friday, he phones me to tell me what he would like for dinner then I log into the site and order it.  Everyone is happy.

Until he wants something that isn't featured on DoorDash (looking at you, Olive Garden) or if his daughter is elbow deep in lukewarm refrigerator food and forgot to place the order.  Or the unexpected pouting when we told him that we would be out of town so he had to ask the front desk to help him on that particular Friday.

We also played the "That's not the regular pizza place..." challenge.  He had the front desk lady order him pizza months ago and then when I first ordered it, he said it was good but it wasn't the same.  So eventually I asked the front desk where they ordered from, ordered from there and "It wasn't the same."

This is where I say we are regularly - and probably too frequently by now - rope-a-doped by the f-i-l.  We forget that he forgets, ironically.  We fall for it far too often to be this far into this adventure.

Also, he has certain words or phrases that he says that we don't know if he was trying to be funny, or thinks he's saying it right, or what is exactly happening.  He's been doing it FOR YEARS so we can't blame dementia or stroke or UTI.  "Happy Easter Bunny Eggs" is an annual favorite, for example. 

Along that line, his current go-to meal is Enchiladas.  Pretty straight forward, yes?  Nope, I have to spell this for you phonetically: Inch-CHILL-lawd-EEEs.  Emphasis always in the wrong places, thus the capitalization.  This is perhaps, one of those "Someday we're going to miss this..." and Kevin and I are all "Will we, though?"

So, now I've mentioned the dementia.  You'll remember that there was a big push to move him to a "more appropriate" facility a few months ago.  Well, that came to a full-stop.  Firstly, he declined to move the first time this was offered. So the State wasn't interested in pursuing it again. Yes, the case manager should have known this before bringing it to us so that was annoying.  If WE wanted to move him, then it's legal proceedings and we're not doing that.  

Secondly, the case manager was invited to no longer work there.  This is a good change as she was in over her head. She had good intentions but it was a good decision. With his initial refusal and now changes in staffing, he's staying there for the duration, as we understand it.  Most of the time he says he's fine there and expresses that he understands the situation; when this is specifically addressed. 

As for his memory, we are at the point of having either the same or very similar conversations each time.   We concentrate on either not pointing it out or purposefully asking questions we already know the answers to help facilitate conversations.  As most dementia patients, he can tell you anything about decades ago but few accurate things about yesterday.

But he did call us at 4:00 in the morning because he saw he had a missed call from us.  From the day before, before we brought him dinner.  So, that's...fun.

He's mostly forgotten that we're the worst children who ever childrened.  Now it's the worst version of Groundhog Day.  The same stories, the same complaints.  For example, he claims that they didn't give him his tylenol, etc.  I went and checked with his nurse and she physically showed me the meds schedule on the computer .  She said that the travel/sub nurses may forget, in which case she reported that she told him "Then get up and follow them to the desk and get it."  I love that she gave him autonomy in the situation.

So, then, when we reported the above to him, I said "We don't want to yell at people if this is not a problem, or if you're just forgetting" and he demurred. Pink flag.  Then Kevin suggested that he can make a note to track his Tylenol and then he knows if he got it or not.  "I don't want to make a big deal or fuss..."  RED flag. To which, I quietly said to Kevin "And now we're done  talking about THAT."  

It has gotten to where the staff recognizes us and even some of the residents, that's nice in a weird way.  My suggestion is if/when you're in this situation: please make eye contact and greet the other residents.  You might be the only non-staff person they talk to, even if it's just a smile.

Anyway, now that I've made you weepy...

I made him a photo album - because that is my lot in life - of his trucking days.  Reportedly he shows it to everyone who will take a moment, which is both sweet and sad.  It is said that it's good to have things like that around to not only remind him but to show the facility staff that the person was once Somebody in this life.  

Then I posted the album on the social media and everyone thought he had passed.  SIGH.

He has a cardiology appointment in a few weeks, which is required by Medicaid/Medicare.  We tried very hard to NOT have to take him, as he ended up in the emergency room the last time he had an appointment.  But alas, Kevin and I are going. Meanwhile, f-i-l has a list of questions for her, few of which pertain to Cardiology.  He has it in his head (again) that the doctor is going to fix him.  He's even added the comment that "she fixed my wife" so....yeah.

We have both spoken with and emailed the doctor's office to prepare them for the appointment. Kevin was emphatic that ANYTHING they say will a) be taken as gospel and b)be forgotten/misunderstood.  He begged them to be careful and pragmatic with their conversations.  

Through the local Council for Aging, we have an advocate now.  She visits him monthly, just she and him so he has autonomy, and she checks with the facility then reports to me.  It's been a relief to have a non-partisan view of the situation to help guide everyone through this.  We didn't know that such a thing exists, they reached out to us and we were relieved and happy to accept.  So, please ask if such a thing exists in your community if you are also raising parents.

Now today I received notification that I have to renew his Medicaid application.  No, YOUR stress level just spiked to the moon.  I'm sitting here in the sun, with the window open and the music playing, trying not to FREAK OUT that they'll find a reason to deny him.  #thanksCheetoHitler

Which brings us to he has cycled back around to "working on getting back home."  That sigh you just sighed?  TIMES A BILLION for us. We know it's cyclical, we know it's the dementia, we know it's denial.

BUT STILL.  C'mon.

It will be a year at the end of July and my mother-in-law's been gone for two years at the end of May. It was just Mother's Day. We also just passed her birthday. We were "prepared" for an emotional upheaval that this month would/could bring.  We were not prepared with "I can do everything I need to here by myself, so why can't I come home?"

And, it is disheartening and frustrating that he can't remember what he had for dinner last night but he can fixate on those kinds of things.

The biggest issue we have is he won't give.  He won't let us make accommodations for him, like a recliner or a radio.  He won't participate in the group activities.  He won't go to the dining room for meals.  When asked why, the summary of his reason is "I'm not as bad as those losers, I don't like it so I'm not going to try."   The denial is strong in him.

Which takes us back to the Medicaid application.  If we were to lose our minds and bring him home again, Medicaid stops and we probably would NOT be eligible to re-apply and/or return to that facility.  Certain people who are  having big feelings about him being in a facility needs to remember that. (not us, sigh)

I imagine you're reading all this and you're shaking your head and you're wondering about if it's hyperbole or OMG that's so much.  This is what it's like raising parents when they're in a facility.  I don't think we had thoughts that once he was in a facility, it would be easier. But if we did, we would have been wrong.

Birds, Cat and Dog; Co-existing

 I started feeding the hummingbirds when we first moved here then I just didn't have time to take care of the feeders so I stopped.  It felt more fair to stop then to sporadically feed them.  Then when Mom went into Hospice I started again as part of the whole "I'll take care of your flowers, etc" promise that I made.

Fast forward to the other day when their feeders were empty after having been refilled less than 48 hours before.  I'm guessing they have babies right now but I don't know for sure.  I do know this fun fact: if the tulips fields are blooming, we have less birds. Now that they're being topped, the birds are back.

Invariably, they will buzz me and/or complain as I take down the feeders to clean and refill.  I don't know if you're aware but they're bossy little f*ckers.  

Later, we were getting ready for bed and they're outside the window having dogfights around the feeder.  Again, I don't know if you know: I believe they are reincarnated fighter pilots and the existence of democracy is their only mission.

So, I mention to Kevin that they're fun to watch but they're aggressive a.f. and Kevin adds on "And can be mean for such little birds."  They'll buzz you if you're working outside, as Kevin often is.  I should say, the red ones are aggressive.  The green ones are just trying to live their lives.

We finish this conversation just to look out the window and there lays in wait, the neighborhood cat.  He's on the railing, about two feet from the feeder, content and patient as can be. He's got a little kitty buffet happening.  Kevin is all "Uh oh, shoo him away." (because I was nearest the door)  So I did and I know he probably returns when we go to bed but at least we made an effort. Maybe he'll get the red bird or get his ass kicked, I'm not sure.

Then like a full 24-hours later, I'm all "So...we had some mixed messaging there. Do we hate the birds? yet don't want them to be cat food?"

Now, about the cat.  Nephew brought their outside cat up when they moved.  We were worried how he would fare, because: city cat. Well, he’s intimidated Lucy, now he perches on our deck waiting for the hummingbirds, and we have significantly less rabbits this year.  He’s doing just fine.

We’re guessing that Lucy chased Fletcher once and Fletcher deployed the murder mittens so now Lucy is scared of him.  SCARED of him.  The other day she came in the house, whining like a baby but her hackles were up and I'm all whatever, lay down you silly dog.  Then I realized that we do have forest animals around the house so I should check to make sure there's not a cougar in the yard.  I opened the door and stepped out and there's the cat.  He's sitting on the top step and just looked at me like "Can I help you?"

Then the next day the wind had blown the door shut.  It's usually propped open so Lucy can go in and out and not make me insane.  Suddenly there's a THUMP against the door, which is startling.  I called Lucy then realized she was outside.  Meanwhile, there's another thump against the door.  I hurried to open it and Lucy ROCKETS inside the house.  Again, whining and hackles.  I look outside and the cat is on the grass, just minding it's own business.  Being a cat.  Ruining Lucy's day with it's mere existence; which I'm certain pleases the cat.

So, Lucy fearsome hunter and protector of humans, thinks that cat can just eff right off, thank you very much.  Meanwhile, the cat remains unconcerned.  

And I just fed the birds again. Yes, the red one yelled at me when I came outside.  

Happy Mother's Day

 

Do or Do Not, There is No Try

 

I'll Tumble For You

 Oh, I have to say thank you for being interested in this silly little nerd hobby.  My little kid heart is So Excited to share.

This is going to be a photo heavy bloggity because we can’t talk about these without SEEING them.  If you were here in person, OMG.

When I read Angela's comment, I had a little trill of panic.  It hadn’t occurred to me to check the power bill.  I did check and there was no power usage change with the little tumbler.  The bill cycle with the new tumbler is now in process so I won’t be able to tell until the end of May.  Kevin, who does think of these things, said he couldn’t imagine that it would be a big draw.

The gift tumbler is on the left and the big girl tumbler on the right:

What do I do with the rocks:  I have them everywhere.  Not, like, a hoarding situation but you know, tastefully.  Lol.   I have most of them in my office.  I started a rock organization project a few summers ago and it has turned into this display:

They are sorted by color, mostly.  There is also a jar of beach junk that I’ve found: marbles, broken pottery/dishes, sea glass (actually river glass).  There are also jars of feathers and shells. I started this project way back at the end of the pandemic (Geology Rocks)

I like how the sun catches them throughout the day.  There is a jar of quartz that sparkles and I thought that was absolute magic when I was little.  I haven’t polished any of those yet for fear the sparkle will smooth away or they’ll disintegrate.  (a simple internet search will probably answer that but I like learning by doing)

The other display is in a repurposed planter.  My mother-in-law gave me a succulent garden and I just have no talent for keeping unkillable plants alive.  So it now holds my favorite rocks; rocks that will never be polished, I should say.

What makes them My Favorite?  If someone gave one to me.  Kevin brings me home rocks from his work; rocks are literally his job.  Or I will pick them up when I’m on a specific adventure like our trip to Ellensburg.  Sometimes, they will just appear; I found one in the middle of a brand new gravel driveway and it looks like a galaxy to me.  I found an agate in the river during walkies one morning, the sun caught it just right and I had to take two steps into the water to get it. Very Wonderful World of Disney.

I also like the feel of them, if they’re shaped a certain way.  Worry rocks were a thing a long time ago and every once in a while, I find one that’s just pleasant to hold.  I’ve found those kinds in all shapes and sizes, one is a perfect egg shape but nearly as large as my fist. Another is flat that fits in the palm of your hand.

Then, as if that isn’t enough, I have heart shaped rocks.  Only three, right now, and those have become a quest to find.  Those seem like a gift from the universe though.  

I’ve talked here before about wish rocks.  One of my friends hadn’t heard of those and I was surprised.   A wish rock is one that has a vein that wraps all the way around a rock in an unbroken line.  Bonus if they are smooth lines or multiple lines.  And yes, I gave her wish rocks after I learned she didn’t know what they were.

Then there are these.  These are amazing.  Two green agates, one found in a river and one found in the creek on our property.  I will never polish these, they are too magical.

The rest are - what I just learned - metamorphic rock, you can see the layers as the soil, earth, water or all, changed around them.  Our neighbor is a retired geology professor and I keep saying that I want to invite him to the house to talk about rocks.

I’ve found rocks in almost every color.  This was a goal I set a while ago.  Green, quartz, and black is common on the river, purple and white are common on the ocean beaches.  Orange is difficult because they are the best example of a rock changing color once they are dried.  Blue rocks are pretty difficult to find and the only place I have consistently found them is at a very out-of-the-way beach on an island that is on the Salish Sea. (that Lucy hates because there is a steel grid staircase AND the waves are too close)

Where I live, there are a few inactive volcanos. (Mt. St. Helens is four hours away)  With that, there is plenty of pumice and lava rock, granite and shale.  I’m not as enamored with those types of rock. I often refer to pumice as “dog food rock” because that’s what my brain relates it to.  Shale is pretty but there is not a lot of variation.  

What do I do with rocks that I bring home and decide that I don’t like them as much (see: orange rocks)  I have a garden, it’s technically a rock garden with what’s called Quarry Rock and pieces even as large as what is colloquially called “one man rock”  as in one man can carry it.  I’ve taken the discarded rocks from my adventures and thrown them out there as filler.  Sometimes I will see one of those rocks and grant it a reprieve if I decide that I like it again.

This is a crap photo but I don't have the patience to wait for the sun
to rise in order to take a better photo. 

A coworker is also a rock nerd and I asked her what she does with her rocks.  She said that once she’s done with them, she takes them back to the beach.  She makes a wish and returns them to nature.  I love that idea and could give that a try someday too.  

This is not a hobby for the impatient.  Especially when you learn that the longer you do certain stages in the tumbler, the better the outcome.  I'm on stage five of second polishing for the second attempt. (how's that for confusing) It's supposed to be done tomorrow. I'm taking this process as a lesson from the Universe.  Also, I have had a few disappointments because I didn't know what rocks polished and which only smoothed.  There are people who do this on the ticktock so that has been helpful to watch.  

I even have insta photos of rocks, here is my favorite:

@kellwynn93

This started during the pandemic, I needed something to focus on and because we were doing daily walkies, it was easy to incorporate.  Then when I was gifted the tumbler, it reawakened some childhood dreams and next thing we know some hurt has been healed.  Because of silly rocks.

I mentioned this in the original post a few years ago: want a rock?  I'll gladly send you one.  :)

The Tip of The Refrigerator

 Well, as we all know, we have had just the worst past two years.  The worst.  I mean, I'm not daring the Universe or anything but mydawg.

We've weathered it okay so far, there have been a few times that we lost it; mentally, spiritually, physically.  Luckily we haven't spun out at the same time, mostly sticking to our "One Crazy Person At A Time" policy.

Until the refrigerator stopped working.  That apparently was the limit.

Kevin mentioned last weekend that the ice cream was soft.  We both just kind of went "Hmmmm" and moved on with our lives.  Then on Wednesday I grabbed the butter and it was soft. You're sensing a theme, aren't you?

I checked out the fridge section and it was cold but not COLD.  The freezer was as best as I can describe as meh.  The ice machine is making ice and happy, the vegetables were frozen, but the ice cream was soft.  I texted Kevin that I thought there was a problem, like, for real though.

He came home and went into problem-solving mode.  He discovered that the coils desperately needed cleaning.  It's a newish fridge and they are on the bottom and not on the back as we were used to.  Thanks to two years of just GAAAAAAAHHHHH, this maintenance task just didn't even make it onto the to-do list.  There was a whole other dog's worth of hair and dust under there.  Sigh.

Using the shop vac and an air compressor, he cleaned it all and we waited.  Kevin said that he'd noticed that the refrigerator had been running more lately.  I hadn't and tried not to raise an eyebrow at the not mentioning of that.

We left it closed until the next morning, hoping that would fix it.  It didn't.  I unplugged it for an hour to let it reset, as suggested by the interwebs.   Nope.  Kevin said that he would look into it more and ask his friends if they knew anything.  

I was in the middle of one big work project and had just finished another.  I didn't make time to research any possible causes or fixes.  So we were not as proactive as we both usually would be.  We were both victims of magical thinking, it was just going to fix itself.

He came home and I was making dinner, at which time I decided that I should probably stop eating food from that refrigerator and freezer.  He tried a few things and we looked at the owners manual to no avail.

Then we both kind of just...stop thinking about it.  It was an unsolvable problem.

This is Not Like Us At All Ever.

This morning I spent an hour trying to find an appliance repair company.  It is shocking the lack of skilled technicians.  I left a voicemail for one at 8:03 this morning, they open at 8:00.  It's now 11:30 and no response. 

Then I phoned the store where we bought the washer and the dishwasher.  They're local and their customer service is really good.  They have a technician and....he can be at the house on Monday, May 12th.  I asked if there were any other options and she put me on hold.  They are "working me in" for next Tuesday afternoon.  That's one...two...three...almost four days without a refrigerator. But I scheduled it.

NOW my brain flips into Go Mode.  I can get ice and fill the ice chests. Something I should have done two days ago but WE LISTEN AND WE DON'T JUDGE.   I cancelled all the cold stuff from the grocery order. Maybe I can buy a dorm fridge to get us through the weekend.  We'll just have to eat out all weekend and WON'T THAT BE FUN.  

Sigh.

Kevin phoned a friend and our Nephew.  Nephew said that there is a reset switch that probably needs pushed.  It's inconveniently located at the back of the refrigerator.  I pulled it out (it's on coasters) but I can't get back there still.  Instead of being on the evening news for being crushed to death by a dying refrigerator, I am waiting for either Kevin or Nephew to get home later today.

We're not buying a dorm fridge because I realized that once we were done, we have zero use for it.  Now I'm back to buying ice.  Then I realized that other than water, most of the stuff in the refrigerator is going into the garbage.  Sigh. And I already submitted the grocery order.  Also, now I have to empty everything, fill up our recycling that I just took, and then replace everything. 

Now I'm spun out again

Instead I'm listening to music on my headphones while alone in a silent house because my brain is the frog in the Bugs Bunny cartoons.  (Michigan J. Frog)

The Perfect Date

 

On Tuesdays, We Rock

 Firstly: my dearest Swistle has full permission to skip this post as I imagine if she has to hear about this topic one more time, I fear she will run screaming into the abyss.  

I have become Liz in Shrinking, I fear.  

I was given a the rock tumbler for Christmas and I'm obsessing, like the proper nerd I am. What had happened was my Nephew drew my name and wasn't sure what to give.  My Niece came in clutch and chose a rock tumbler.  Nephew was Very Skeptical and relieved when he saw that I was so happy. SO HAPPY.

So, I started it like the 27th of December, we'll say.  It's run almost non-stop since then.  The other day I switched it around and it threw an error code.  I tried a few things then searched the interwebs. ZERO SHADE to the gift giver, but it turns out that this is a cheap tumbler.  (Again: ZERO SHADE because really it's a good thing because who knew if the alphabet brain was going to be satisfied after doing it once or twice)  

One of the suggestions I found was essentially "You can just wire around it" and I laughed.  "Cause of house fire: a sketchy wired rock tumbler".   Oh, and I have it in Monica's Closet.  Yeah, it's a little noisy but not as bad as one would think. Kevin said it sounded like running water, which he did not enjoy.

Kevin said to just go get another one at the hardware store and I dragged my feet.  It's only $70 (only, sigh) but I just couldn't do it.  So he called the store and there was only one in stock so he asked them to hold it.  Then he called me and said Go Get It Now.  So I stopped my Spring Break binge-watching and got it.  I am so neglected and abused by that man, LOL.

The new tumbler is not effing around.  It's more industrial and it has two barrels instead of one.  It's louder and accumulates heat so we moved it from my office out into the garden shed.  I started a new batch and had one batch that was on the last cycle.  On a whim, I tried the gift one and it started again.  Luckily, I had gone to Deception Pass the day before so I had another new batch of rocks. (this is adorable because, really: I always have a batch of rocks)

I started those then will switch it to the new one when the first cycle finishes.  Kevin mentioned that while it's good that it works again, it's probably not worth risking burning down the house. #buzzkill. See: "cause of fire"  

I'm having fun learning which rocks will polish and not polish, which rocks just reduce in size, and which ones come out REALLY GOOD.  Instead of trying to find rocks of a specific color or type, now I will search for ones that might polish.  Now instead of finding new trails to take Lucy walkies, I'm looking for places where I can find cool rocks.

This is what I've learned so far: green ones smooth and are pretty but don't shine.  Black ones significantly reduce in size and are pleasingly smooth.  White ones from the ocean turn out MAGICAL, smooth and round and shiny. And often agates that glow when you put light under them. Purple does shine and shows veins.  (this is the level of nerd I have become: veins, not lines)  I just started a batch of orange rocks and we'll see.

Right now, I have a tray of polished rocks on the table next to my chair because it's just so pleasing to look at them.  I will need to find a way to display the next batches though, or start giving them away.  But right now, they're My Precious.

While learning all about this, I realized that this has become one of those Healing Childhood Wounds.  Over the holidays, there were videos on the clock app about parents or grandparents receiving gifts of toys from their childhoods that they wanted and never received. (if you need a good cry, go watch) This is absolutely that.

  I have always collected rocks and have wanted a tumbler since I was a kid. Growing up on a lake and running through the woods, you always found treasures. I would often be disappointed when once dried, the rocks appearance changed and I knew a tumbler would fix that.  Alas, decades later, here we are.

The cycles run in about seven days per so now on Tuesday afternoons I can go play with my rocks.  I bought a specific strainer to rinse them, I use an old soup pot that I brought home from my parents house, and even have a scale that Kevin gave me to make sure I don't overload the new tumbler (like I probably did with the gift one).  There's a bin to keep all the supplies.  I have a system and am In It. 

There are rocks that can be cut in half to show agates and I have (so far) drawn the line at using power tools (probably)  Maybe once I get bored with this tumbler.  Like that's going to happen. Because, LOOK:

At Least the Pizza was Good

 Yesterday we travelled "east of the mountains" because our niece had her very first art showing.  She graduated with a fine arts degree a few years ago and she was a featured artist at the college she attended. She has sold commissions, but this was her first professional art showing.  Why her first showing wasn't local is a convoluted story not worth telling. (someone knew a guy who knew a guy)

Unfortunately, it was in a small town (population 19,000)  It's a university town and it has a famous rodeo.  When I searched for things to do in this town, there were like seven things.  Three of which were breweries and wine cellars and one was a local museum.

So, we took "the back roads" to get there before crossing over the main pass outside of Seattle.  We were in no hurry and it was a really nice trip over the mountains. 

At the top of the pass, we stopped to use the bathroom and get breakfast.  But we took one exit too soon and we ended up in a tourist trap, most of which wasn't open yet.  We impulsively decided on getting an overpriced breakfast sandwich and left.  Just to see the town we were supposed to stop in off the next exit.  Welcome to traveling with Surely and Kevin.

While we were waiting for said sandwich, I was looking at the display locomotive across the street and making Sheldon jokes when I noticed a sign in the window.  The Health Department rating for this particular establishment was a C.  As in: okay.  LITERALLY IT SAID "OKAY".  The next available rating was Above Average and the next was Excellent.  I thought it was a good sandwich, Kevin was meh about it.  Probably because I unwisely pointed out the "C" rating to him.

We get to this town two hours later, maybe, and there is a landmark that all truckers and farmers know.  Kevin LIT UP because he remembered seeing it when he rode with his dad to get hay when he was a child.  Pause:  Kevin's dad was a long-haul truck driver and bucked hay for YEARS.  Continue.

Now we are there about five hours too early and we can't check into the hotel until 3.  We found it anyway, on the main street, that is literally called Main Street and was satisfied with the location and appearance.  I had chosen a private, local hotel over a chain hotel on the outskirts of town.

I now refer to the Top Things to Do in Town.  There are few.

This region of the state is the only place in the whole world to find blue agates.  So, that was my goal. We went to the park on the list, which was riverside and looked for rocks.  While I went to the bathroom, Kevin spotted one in the river and went to get it.  He stayed dry but opened his finger on something.  He told me he said to himself  "Maybe I should have waited for Surely to come back or at least leave the car keys on the bank."  See, I'm not the only one in this house who makes questionable decisions searching for rocks.  And I think that first rock is indeed a blue agate.

Then we walked along the interpretive trail along the river where I learned about materials like pit run, gravel, sand, etc.  We talked about erosion and remediation. Kevin can do DEEP into this particular topic.   I was reminded of how it was when we went to the Grand Canyon. Fun fact: you don't take an excavation company pit boss to a canyon.  Color him: unimpressed.

We met a few dogs and had a nice walk in the SUN.  Mygosh, the SUN WAS OUT.  We were in t-shirts!!!  Kevin said that alone was worth the trip.

We started to return to town when we spotted a coffee stand.  We stopped and got a drink then found a place to eat lunch. We found a nice restaurant in the center of town, staffed with college kids.  It was clearly a locals hangout.  I don't know why but we were clearly marked as outsiders.  Maybe because we weren't wearing cowboys boots.

One of our favorite games is to overhear and interpret conversations. The winner being a guy ghosting a girl on a date when she went to the bathroom.  He paid the bill and peaced out. To be fair, she was on her phone the ENTIRE TIME.

Anyway.

There were two elderly gentleman having lunch and they were talking about farming and fishing and all the things you would expect.  Then a couple and a man sat across from us.  Kevin motioned with his eyes to peek and I thought "Oh, no.  It's a pastor."  He had a notebook and papers, dressed in a suit. It was obvious that they were meeting to go over something

Then Kevin heard something about a car and insurance.  But I heard something about an excavator so now I'm curious. Then Kevin flinched and did the ASL sign for crying.  I exclaimed "OH NO" significantly louder than I wanted to.

Meanwhile, Kevin is also watching a toddler eat mac and cheese with his dad.  His dad who is doing dad things and not paying attention.  Kevin reported that little man spilled a big spoonful of mac and cheese onto the seat.  Not to be wasteful, he scooped it up in this little fist and ate it.  Then shortly thereafter, ran said hand through his hair.  By the time they left, it was everywhere; including his sock monkey backpack.

But now I'm invested in the couple across from us.  It turns out that they had either lost their house or had it heavily damaged by what sounded like flooding, but man caused flooding.  

Then I learned that text message responses can be admissible in court.  Because the couple received a shrug emoji text in response to a question and the lawyer said "Between the emails and the texts, we should  be able to make a case with the judge."  

We had to leave so we didn't get to hear the rest of the situation but I'm still thinking about that poor couple.

Next, we drove down the street parallel to main street, which was literally just another main street.  All brick buildings in good repair, many store fronts closed and not much interesting.  We bumped into a grocery store, which was perfect timing because I had to GO.  And yes, Kevin asked why I didn't go at the restaurant and I don't have a good reason.

Now we have two hours still before we can go to the hotel. I looked at the list of Things to Do and found  one of the things was just a few blocks away.  It was a private home, decorated with thousands of bottle caps, reflectors, and other repurposed items.  The display notice said they've been working on it for over 45 years and had other artists help.  There was a twisted chimney with a mannequin head in it and it's a good thing I'm not a screamer because it scared the snot out of me. We walked around the block and saw all the things then returned to the car.  That took about twenty minutes.  

I searched for Antique stores and nothing. I searched for ice cream and nothing beyond fast food or grocery stores.  We have already crossed off the Travel for Ice Cream Adventure off of our list.

Again, there is nothing to do in this town and we had done most of what was listed:

#6 was the gallery opening. #1 and 2 were closed

We went to the hotel and figured out parking. It is a refurbished building and the parking is in the back of the hotel but not right behind it so it was kind of a thing.  Kevin thought we should just go in and see if there was a room ready or if the hotel had a suggestion of things to do.

Luckily our room was ready and there was really not anything else to do.  (even the girl at the coffee stand laughed uncomfortably and didn't have any suggestions when we asked)  We went to our room, unpacked and took a really good nap.  It was a relief to not have something to do, somewhere to go, someone to take care of.  I don't think either of us realize how tired we actually were. Mentally and physically.

We woke up in time to attend the opening.  We dressed up a little because we didn't know and got in the car.  Kevin said "I hope we don't lose our parking spot" because the lot had filled since we arrived.  He pulled out into the street, saw our family outside the gallery that we didn't notice was RIGHT THERE.  He pulled around the block and someone had ALREADY taken our spot.  We found another and laughed at the situation.  

We walked the whole block to the gallery and it was fun to say "We're here for the Niece's Name showing" and be shown to the gallery.  She does charcoal drawings and they're pretty amazing.  There were twenty hung around the room.  They had her full name as the artist, they were gallery priced and had a note card with her as the featured artist for attendees, and a posted bio.  It was quite the experience to see her in that element.

It was fun to watch which drawings people gravitate to.  We all had our favorites so it was an ongoing discussion.  We encouraged her and created ways to get her to interact with attendees, which I can't imagine how awkward one would feel doing.  Then we walked through the rest of the gallery/museum then left thirty minutes before closing.  

Kevin decided he wanted pizza for dinner, which is unlike him.  I will eat pizza every day but he's kind of whatever about it.  Where we live, there are a million Mexican and Thai places but not a really good pizza place.  So, we had a goal.  Kevin asked the gallery curator (who was wearing custom cowboy boots with her dress) where to go.  Turns out, it was walkable and right next to the grocery store we had been at earlier. 

Now it's Friday evening and the restaurant is full.  We could wait thirty minutes or we could eat outside.  The sun hadn't gone down yet so I'm all Let's Eat Outside.  I didn't do the math of the Restaurant is Full versus the time it would take to get our meal.  We were chilled by the time the food arrived but the pizza was SO GOOD.  I lamented that we found great pizza and it's over a doggone mountain pass to get to it.

We walked back to the hotel and CRASHED.  Kevin was asleep almost immediately but I was determined to relax a minute. I read two chapters of my book and realized This is Dumb, Go to SLEEP.  We woke up at 7:30 and was on the road at 8:00.  Originally we were going to return to the restaurant for breakfast but we were both not in the mood.  We went back to the only coffee stand in town then got onto the highway.

This time, we travelled the main thoroughfare the whole way.  Traffic was omgosh speeding and we made record time back to the green side of the state.  We stopped for breakfast at our regular place.  Yes, we have a regular place, we have gotten that old.  

The gallery is featuring Niece through May and she sold one painting after we left.  The curator seemed to think that selling more wasn't going to be a problem.  Now she's officially a professional artist and she can decide if she wants to pursue that more or return to doing commissions and for pleasure.

This was our Christmas gift a few years ago

Now we are home to a very happy dog and still have the weekend ahead of us.  We're glad we went and equally glad to be home.  And we don't feel the need to return to that town.  Everyone was nice, every place we went to was nice.  We just don't need to go back.  Except  maybe for pizza.

Please Stop Punching Me in the Face - A Raising Parent Story

 If the universe would just stop punching me in the face, I would be extremely grateful.

I had a work meeting this morning and was actually interested in it and had information to present.  I was even on time and everything. Then I got a call while I was eating my box breakfast and that was that.

My father-in-law had a doctor's appointment this morning and my sister-in-law took him. Because I had a meeting.

Until they sent him to the emergency room directly from the doctor's office. It had nothing to do with the appointment, that actually went better than expected.  The issue was he had a blood pressure episode.  It dropped to 52/49.  Yeah.

So I initially stayed at my meeting but as it began I thought "I'm power of attorney" and "I hope they remember to check/do/etc."  At which point I realized that I couldn't stay.  My sister-in-law is good with him but she doesn't have POA or his health info and, no shade, the ability to communicate with the hospital staff.

Sigh.

What started this appointment and field trip is that thef-i-l has cysts on his kidneys.  They're visible on his back so there was concern about all the bad things.  He's having back pain also, which  is still the broken back from nine months ago, being 86 years old and bedridden.

He got the all clear about the cysts, they're harmless, just annoying.  His kidney function is good so that's not a worry.  

They got him stabilized at the emergency department and there weren't any red flags.  We noticed that the swings between blood pressure readings were much wider than the last time we had monitored it. That is to be expected and it's a little jarring to watch in real time.  The top number ranges from 155+ to 70's.  The bottom number was more steady at a whopping 40-60 range

Let me back up a few steps: he has orthostatic blood pressure. This means it changes with body position and activity.  He's "fine" when sitting or laying but when he stands, it tanks.  There really is no predictability with this.  Also, it went from occasionally to what we learned is daily now.  Eventually it will trend downward and just not rebound.

Okay, so back to the present. They pumped him full of saline and monitored him and phoned his cardiologist.   One of her questions was Why is he still on all those medicines?  Which is a really good question.  This time last year the plan was to pare down his medicines because they were  no longer necessary when you're in the aging-out stage of life.  They weren't "fixing" anything anymore. She thought that could be helpful: taking him off a good bit of meds. Otherwise, he was "fine."

This information was lost in the transition from the hospital to the facility.  We didn't check - or even think  to check - because we assumed that it was happening.  He no longer goes to his doctors and seeing the actual doctor at the facility is near impossible.  As in, I don't know why they bother stating there's one on staff.

Now the urologist/nephrology has said he was fine and the cardiologist said he was fine.  The hospital said he was fine.  He just had an episode.  

And there was pouting.  Pouting because they didn't "fix" him and conversely: they wasted their time because "I just had an episode."  

Sigh.

I explained that his back hurt because he broke his back and chances are it is not healed. I left out the "it might not ever heal at your age" part.  That it was a good thing that his kidneys are fine and that all his tests came out fine. That nothing scary had been found.

Pouting.

Additionally to all of the above, he's been obsessing that his artery in his neck was plugged.  He said that the doctor who retired twenty years ago told him that it had to be fixed.  So I was very specific and clear with the emergency room doctor and she checked.  She said it was fine, which we knew it was, and then I made her repeat directly to him "You are FINE. It is FINE."

At one point he also had it in his head that his pacemaker needs replacing, which is news to all of us.  He got it the summer of 2019.  They tested it (again) and it's fine. We even watched it work in real time when his heart went into A-Fib.

Anyone else would be relieved that nothing was remarkably wrong.  But he was upset because they didn't fix him.  While we understand that it is not easy accepting that you're at a point of no return, literally, it is not our fault.

Then there's the I arrived at 10 am and left at 3:00 pm and he still wasn't discharged.  We left so that my sister-in-law could get her car and get something to eat then go back to the hospital.  They called me fifteen minutes later and was all "Umm, where did you go?"  He went from "we're discharging him, we'll be back with information in a bit" to Get Him Out of Here.   

I mentioned to the emergency room doctor that we need help with transportation.  When the nurse phoned, I asked her about that.  She had no idea and told me that the ambulance couldn't just "take him back"  *deep breath*  I explained that we stated we needed help with transportation and had used it before and the doctor said it wasn't a problem. 

Then she asks why we just can't take him home.

We will never know where I found the control and grace to not verbally remove her head from her shoulders.  Because somehow, I didn't.  I explained that he's 86 years old, in a facility, had just spent the day in the emergency room due to an episode, and jogging him out to the car AND THEN GETTING HIM BACK OUT didn't seem like a good plan.  

She reluctantly said she would look into it but that it wouldn't be paid for and I was all THAT'S FINE.  Then I phoned my s-i-l and she said she would just take him.  I think that's a bad idea but I'm not doing the work.  I called the facility and said "He's on his way, please make sure that someone is there to help" and they were all OF COURSE WE WILL, thanks for calling.  

Sigh.

Oh and when I asked the nurse how to reach her to tell her what the plan was, she balked. So, wait, let me understand: you give me a problem to solve, I offer alternatives then agree to work on her solution then when I am ready to give feedback and a plan, you don't want to talk to me.  I mean....

I get it, my sister-in-law was on her way and they could talk about it but that wasn't the point. I should have just stayed at the hospital until it was all resolved but I had been awake since 5, hadn't eaten or drank since 9, and I was over-stimulated.

Now the pretty bow on top of this is We will get to have the same conversation with the f-i-l for the next visits ad nauseum about how what's happening isn't fixable.  It's the cruelty of aging plus dementia.  As Kevin describes it: "He's with it just enough to make it miserable."

He has, by the way, let go of the anger and that we're the worst children that ever were children.  He has his moments and there are visits where I can feel it simmering just under the surface. We don't know if he's still speaking badly about us, we haven't asked.  His grandson spoke with him for the first time in months last week.  

Kevin had the idea of printing out the discharge papers and we can just refer to them when he asks again and again. It won't help but at least we'll feel like we've done something to help facilitate the memory process.  It didnot work with the bank statements but we can say that we tried.  It's stupid things like this that are relatively simple yet still exhausting to deal with.

So, that was today.

The update for everything else is:

I still have a job but administration is nervous.  The rest of it is still a dumpster fire in a hurricane.  We live in the dumbest timeline.

I had to have an emergency eye exam because my vision had changed.  I need the new lenses on my eyes cleaned with a laser and I was all "We can just wait for that..." because yikes.  But the doctor said that the eye disease I have is progressing.  Sigh.  I had noticed changes so I shouldn't have been surprised, yet I was.

Spring break is next week and I was looking forward to it but now just feeling anxious.  I started a huge work project and it needs completed before I go.  So, of course I didn't work today and I have Friday off.  Of course.  

There has been zero progress with my mother's estate.  Family is radio silent again.  We're waiting for the probate process.  And still no memorial.  It's literally like nothing happened.

But hey, everything else is "fine". Totally fine.  

Please stop punching me in the face, Universe.

Proving My Point...

 In my last post, I actually said that I wrote in a way to avoid being flagged.  EVEN WITH THAT, I got a spam comment about the pandemic.  Now You have a friend who...deals with spam comments on their social media.

It has been flagged and deleted.  My apologies to anyone who had to read that complete utter nonsense.

We live in the dumbest timeline.

I Have A Friend Who...

 In one way, I can't believe it's March and in another, I can't believe it's only March.  I've said this multiple times in the last two months: we are just living in the dumbest timeline.

I am never going to be able to understand how we, as a country, got here.  I can't conceive how Hate has won the day and seems to continue to win without abatement.

So, while the past two years have made it particularly difficult to get up and participate in life here in my world, it just keeps getting harder.  This is not a Raising Parents story.  This is a I Don't Know How to Exist in This World story.

My world is filled with people who have such opposite beliefs - or support such opposite beliefs - that it feels pretty isolating.  It feels crazy-making.  We have to reconcile "Well, they're good people and they've been your friend/family/coworker forever" with "But they support Hate and Greed."

People are fine - or happy even - with people losing their jobs. Losing their benefits.  Losing their autonomy.   Losing their right to everything they've worked hard for.

I have no solutions but here's what I'm going to offer to you:  you can say "I have a friend..."  In conversation, when the state of our world is the topic, you can say:

"I have a friend who works for a federal funded program that helps at-risk families and children.  It's existed for 60 years.  Every day she checks her email and the news to see if she still has a job.  The funding has been cut twice and restored, sort of. But there's another attempt on shutting the program down happening right now and they are determined to cut it."

"I have a friend whose father-in-law is on Medicare and Medicaid.  He's in a facility because the family couldn't care for him anymore and now he has dementia.  Funding to care for him is being threatened because "waste and fraud".  Meanwhile, we've been trying to get him a doctor's appointment for over a month.  Because the facility is understaffed and the medical community is overloaded, it will take another month for an appointment.  Not to mention that his television has been broken and that there's been staff turnover in the six months he's been there. Tell her about the waste and fraud."

"I have a friend whose husband has been planning to retire in two years.  Now the funding is being threatened and the economy is failing so he is putting that on hold.  He's been working since he's sixteen but people in our government feel like he should work until he dies instead."

"I have a friend who has LGBTQ+ family and friends.  They're terrified that the marriage will be annulled, that they're going to lose their child to suicide because of bullying and the lack of medical care. They live in a world full of hate after fighting so hard for equality."

"I have a friend who has nieces that are of child-bearing age.  Their lives are at risk if they become pregnant and there are complications.  Or universe forbid: something awful happens to them and they need medical intervention to undo the damage"  (apologies for the coding, we live in a world where certain words create issues for creators)  This brings me to...

"I have a friend who is a creator.  She's usually direct and funny and kind and creative.  But the world she lives in now wants to limit her words and her creations.  Because people are fragile because their antiquated ways are being demolished from society and they're frightened that they will have to live in a world where boys kiss and people of color can do anything they put their minds to."  And she's exhausted by every day there is a new assault on being a basic decent human being.

I am one friend that is being affected by all of the above.  Now extrapolate that out to every citizen. There is not a soul that isn't being affected by this and some of them are fine with it.

Now you can say "I have a friend..."  I'll be that friend for you.  Not everyone lives in a place of diversity and can say these things honestly. Yet they still believe in equality and human rights and dignity.  Now you can say "I have a friend who..." and it will be true.

We used to say "Stay Safe" because of the pandemic.  Now I say it because this is the world we live in now.  Stay safe, friends.

  

I Need to Unsubscribe

 Even though it looks like we may be staying put here in this house, I have continued to browse the realty emails.   

The other morning a house was listed that is in my dream neighborhood.  It's on the bay and there's a state park and county park nearby.  It just seems to be a nice place to live.

I clicked through and it wasn't on the water, and didn't even have a view really. But the property itself was on the larger side so I looked at the details.  Age of the home was 90 years, which is old for this area (I know, East Coasters: that is adorable lol)  It was a one owner home so it's been in the same family.  

The photos showed probably what you imagined.  Paneling on the walls, old linoleum, small rooms. Clearly an older persons home.

Curiosity satisfied, I moved on and didn't really think about it again.

Yesterday, I need to "touch grass" as the interwebs say.  I took Lucy to the state park, the one mentioned above.  After snow then a big rain and wind storm, it was unseasonably warm and lovely. We had nice walkies in the sun then headed into town to pick up groceries.

I knew approximately where that 90-year-old house was so I kept an eye out for it.  I spotted it and thought "Oh, it's been painted".  Then I noticed an elderly gentleman, sitting on some stairs and looking over the neighborhood.  There was another older gentleman standing next to him.

"Oh, that's probably the owner" I thought.  "I wonder if that was his brother? son?"

Then it hit me.  That's Probably The Owner.  Sitting outside of his house that's no longer his and enjoying the sun for perhaps the last time.

I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING.

I think I need to stop looking at houses on the interwebs.  I'm getting too invested.

Tilt Shift House

Every few years, we entertain the idea of moving.  Specifically, once Kevin retires One of considerations is that we don't believe we can age in place here. The rural setting, the weather, the lack of resources/support for the elderly are all reasons to consider alternatives. We won't have children or grandchildren - or living next door - to provide support like the parents did.  

The other is that every year we have three inches of snow outside that refuses to melt and also it feels like it rains 300 days yearly.  Yesterday was an earthquake.  (there is an inactive volcano less than an hour away)

The difference this time with our pondering is that we've been actually snooping online at possible places.  The search has been as close as  the nearby towns and as far away as the other coast.   

We trended toward finding properties that are like ours.  But we don't want to live in  town, per se. We want to just be close to town.  So, kinda just like where we are but not as rural. Also, I realized that I wanted to be near the water; meaning staying close to the coast and not moving into the mountains. Being on a lake would be nice but again: unlikely because that would be rural.

I have learned that there is nothing that makes you appreciate your house more than house shopping.  Unless, of course, you're moving because you hate your house.  Example: find a house, browse the photos only to discover "Oh, we'd have to redo the bathroom" because it's visually old/worn or "Everything needs painting, new carpet, etc.".  However, I've found that I've said "I can live with that" to most kitchens because that space is rarely a priority for me.

This process brought the dawning realization that we're older now and don't necessarily have the energy or want to rehab a house like we did when we were younger. Sure, we can hire out the repairs, rehab, painting but one of the other intentions is to tuck some of the money away from selling this house into savings.  

Also, I learned to don't get caught in the photos that realtors post. Not only are rooms photographed to look bigger and brighter, the neighborhood isn't included.  Click "Street View" if its available or google the address.  So many times I've clicked  through to street view to be all "NOPE".  Sketchy neighborhoods but nice house, or too near a road or in one case: literally next to a freeway onramp and/or no yard at all, front or back.

I will never pay HOA fees or live in a neighborhood with covenants.  Not only is it expensive, if I want to paint my house orange with purple polka dots, I'm going to.

Because when you search for anything anymore, websites want you to sign up for their email, add notifications, etc.  I am always a Hard Pass for those but I allowed one site to send emails. I will browse through the photos then hit delete because this is just a dream at this point. BUT ALSO, because you never know what you might find.

And....this is where I went down the rabbit hole.

Yesterday, I was flipping past one of those emails when a house caught my attention. It was nothing fancy, in fact it needed exterior paint and yardwork.  Normally I would scroll right past it. But something was nudging me to look further.

Upon further inspection, I discovered that it's our house, just in another state.  It's the same floor plan inside, a year newer, yet was slightly different. It was like seeing our house at tilt-shift or in a dream.  It was the same, yet similar, if that makes sense.

I found myself obsessing over this house.  It became a Spot the Difference game. 

The outside was different - more low-key and as I mentioned, in need of paint. It was the primary blue that everyone used a few years ago with just plain white trim.  It was in a suburban area with a big backyard that is similar to ours but in need of landscaping and maintenance.  These are the main reasons that I initially skimmed past the initial photo.

After viewing all of these photos and sending a link to Kevin, I began to create a whole backstory. It looks like an elderly couple lived there and perhaps the man aged out and now the woman has. Clues being: tools, truck in the garage, lawn equipment in the shop but only women's clothing in the half-full closet.  The house has been staged with what looks like leftover furniture from them but no personal touches.

The first photo after exterior photos is the one that made me pause. It was disorienting, seeing the living room. It was what first made me realize that This is Our House.  Now, the furniture is different of course but the paint is the color my kitchen is painted.

It has the same pony wall on the left, I hate it and

Similar color schemes with furniture and the lampshades are similar; but this could also be staging.  The big difference here is they have a larger window, which I wanted but we compromised on other things.  Ceiling fan is indicative of a different climate, but now I want one. 

The dining area is different than ours and it took a literal day for me to figure it out.  The main window is smaller in the sale house and there isn't a side window.  They have a small dining table and all of that combined makes the space look bigger than it is. We have the fancy beveled glass entry door, one of the concessions that were made.

This is one of the big example of realtors using angles and wide lens
to make the space look larger than it is.

Then I scrolled to the kitchen photos.  This is where I really was incredulous.

The cabinetry is similar, the floor is the old flooring that we replaced.  The appliances look like the original appliances.  We have a big island and theirs seems like an afterthought.  They have pot lights and we have pendants.  

This kitchen has a desk where a counter is in our kitchen and that caught my attention. I've contemplated taking those cupboards out and replacing with an antique buffet or Hoosier cabinet.  Now I'm not sure about that idea; I think it would stand out too much.  

Mystery: I have no idea what that open space to the left of the stove would have been. The only thing I can think of is garbage bins or a wine cooler.  

Yes, I have done a deep dive investigation comparison of this house.  I said I was obsessing.

The hallway is the same, although theirs is bare and boring without artwork or family photos but I think I glanced a wall sconce while we have a lamp and overhead lighting. 

The common folk bathroom is nearly the same, we changed the mirror and the flooring. 

The mudroom/laundry room is the same. They even had the same issue with not being able to push the dryer back because of the floor vent.  I would describe those rooms as what our house looked like when we moved into it.

The spare bedroom in the other house is actually set up as a bedroom.  The only regret we have for this house is not having a third bedroom or den space. Seeing the room made up as a bedroom makes me wonder if we'll change it when we're both not working.  But probably not this color:

The primary bedroom is like the kitchen in the way that it is painted a similar color. They have a mirror on the wall, which is practical and I would hate it.  Their closet is boring white while ours is pumpkin orange. 

The primary bathroom is very different. They chose the common, less expensive
floorplan while we chose the deluxe floor plan. Thus the compromises that we spoke about earlier.   

One sink versus two sinks, which we now know is a waste. 

We have a garden tub and windows while they have a bath/shower. 

 There is a linen closet with a regular door in their bathroom located where Kevin's shower-that-I-hate is located. We have two nice cupboards instead.

(I hate that wall so much)

We redid the floor, mirrors, and the overhead light
The light bar is next because the 80's called and they miss their lights

My dislike for that shower is great. But he loves it. *shrug*

One of the things I noticed between the two houses overall is the little details: we changed out all the drawer and cupboard pulls and plain white plastic light switches.  Our mudroom is decorated and not utilitarian. We have curtains, shades, and sheer panels because it gets cold here.  Mostly though, ours is clearly lived in and not tidied for sale.  

This experience has shown me perhaps what it is like to be conscious during a dream.  Everything is similar, just a little bit changed.

It has also shown me that shopping for houses is fun if you've never done it before or if you have the money to upgrade in your area..  If we wanted to move deep south, we could have an incredible house, much more than we would ever need.  I think that would be my only shot to ever have a swimming pool though.

Anyway, I had to share this surreal experience. It was just too odd to not acknowledge.

Wanna Be Frustrated? Let's Play A Game!

 I am a little bored and a lot frustrated; for a variety of reasons and not just because the US is on fire.

I decided that I needed a distraction.  I chose a game I usually play around Thanksgiving, thanks to Ross Geller.  Click here if you have no idea what I'm talking about: States Game

Name all 50 states. That's it, that's the game.  Sounds simple, perhaps. I invite you to try.

I have a system, starting with:

The region where I live.  

Then I go down the coast until I run out states.

Now return upward to the next region, until I run out of states.

I am not so much good with the midwest/rust belt part of our nation so it starts to fall apart there.

Then I do the Deep South...and invariably miss one. (Tennessee, this time)

Then the Eastern Seaboard.

Now at this point I'm grasping at anything.  

I tried to name the 13 Colonies and am embarrassed to admit that I named eight.  I even tried thinking of Hamilton lyrics...and that's how I got New Jersey.  I always forget the southern colonies, for some reason.  

Now, using the alphabet brain superpowers, I named the states that begin with vowels.  That stalled out pretty quickly.

Hilariously - to me - I realized that I had forgotten TEXAS.

Okay, okay, I can do this.  SPORTSBALL TEAMS.  Nope, not a single one.

Next tactic: going alphabetically.  This got me Wisconsin and Vermont because Alphabet Brain started at  Z

Now I'm missing two.  Last time it was Michigan and I suspect one of the two forgotten during the last attempt and it didn't stick in my brain.

MISSISSIPPI

I tried  remembering Capitals and that was ADORABLE.

I've gone through categories: coasts, vowels, size, Colonies, regions, Places I have Been, Places where I know people....

And that gave me: KENTUCKY.  

Then I stalled out, I was at the point of no return.  I found the youtube clip for this post and watched it, wondering/hoping they would name a state I missed.  Nope.

I tried one last attempt: Canadian Border States, because I had a suspicion that was the region I was missing.  I could nearly imagine it clearly but it wouldn't come forward. GAH.

Finally after about 30 minutes, I gave up. The game in the episode is timed at like six minutes and that's impossible. It's one of those games that really, if you don't get it right away, you're not going to get it.

MINNESOTA

Tuna - This Caught On...

 Okay, so what I considered a throw-away post intended to rinse out recent bad news actually caught (ha! unintended pun!) some interest.

I realized that I left out a very important component of making tuna sandwiches:

Condiments.

This, I suspect, is where it really gets interesting in this discussion.  "Interesting" being a stronger word than one would suspect in a discussion about tuna sandwiches but this is the world we live in right now.

As I mentioned, wheat bread is the go-to here.  However, whole grain is my favorite.  I've tried sourdough and it was too many flavors.  I haven't had white bread since the 1900's.

Years ago my sister made me a tuna sandwich with pita bread and as Swistle mentioned: celery.  I STILL think about that sandwich.  Do I ever remember to add pita and celery to the shopping list? don't be silly, of course not.

So, we already talked about mayonnaise.  Kevin wants lightly spread mayo on each piece of bread.  It's too much, I'm just saying.

Mayo is Not my favorite and I'm allergic in large doses. I substitute it with - bear with me - ranch instead of mayo.  Only on one slice and it's barely noticeable.  Swistle mentions that she mixes mustard into the tuna but Kevin would pack my bags if I did that. However, I do like it and use it on one slice instead and I can't believe I forgot to mention that very important detail.

Also, GiGi mentioned her husband using olive oil and I'm going to consider that as a mayo alternative.

Subtopic: a friend I used to know put mustard on grilled cheese.  It is surprisingly good.  We're not talking about using mayo instead of butter on grilled cheese. I said: we're not talking about it.

I am curious about making it a little spicier and will try that when I next make it for myself.  This is one of those things that one doesn't think of trying until some weird chick writes on the internet about tuna sandwiches and then we crowd-source ideas and recipes.

Then while thinking about this post and the comments, I remembered a childhood friend who put potato chips on her sandwich.  Like, take the top slice of bread off, add a layer of potato chips then replace the bread.  Too much texture for me, for sure.  (like the big chunks of tuna...nope, sorry NGS. lol)

Finally, can we all agree that lettuce does not belong on a tuna sandwich?