tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67417327125088356832024-03-13T21:01:28.670-05:00Boxing Up Grandmawhimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-23643262437495398162013-08-20T17:40:00.002-05:002013-08-20T17:40:21.299-05:00They're Going to Put Me in the Movies...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxlhRd6H3kjzoFffXec6fnL5DCXghd3AJGn4ZYbel1pXWbumxX8NApWE32UEWfIzAGsQkH_JkSbrzUQ_LOcYruKWPVO432eODAarbESfxbHOKC9rqgwqACUBPsk8CWVlnzaMDrrWgdTM/s1600/grandma44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdxlhRd6H3kjzoFffXec6fnL5DCXghd3AJGn4ZYbel1pXWbumxX8NApWE32UEWfIzAGsQkH_JkSbrzUQ_LOcYruKWPVO432eODAarbESfxbHOKC9rqgwqACUBPsk8CWVlnzaMDrrWgdTM/s320/grandma44.jpg" width="320" /></a>...they're going to make a big star out of me!</div>
<br />
My grandma has had a BUSY week while she's been in the hospital. I'm not sure what kind of hospital she was in but whatever they were dispensing...I want some!!<br />
<br />
Seems grandma starred in a movie while she was in the hospital. A film crew came in and did her hair and make-up. We don't know the name of the movie or what it is about...we just have to watch for her. We'll know it when we see it. <br />
<br />
/snort<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yPVa8lIt7MoQqyErbFBk2Qz55sz8fXkmSW2ZoripzMCbYRsC0HH1YkFigGihCIyEoSzEY_ErsOZfvXi_IfJtAzwlxHCYWOkNO6rSU5MaSelUK_JSXKKC6uX7yGM21C70euYklqErLTo/s1600/grandma42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-yPVa8lIt7MoQqyErbFBk2Qz55sz8fXkmSW2ZoripzMCbYRsC0HH1YkFigGihCIyEoSzEY_ErsOZfvXi_IfJtAzwlxHCYWOkNO6rSU5MaSelUK_JSXKKC6uX7yGM21C70euYklqErLTo/s320/grandma42.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The people across the hall were quite jealous of grandma. They threw a HUGE party with balloons and flowers and lots and lots of food. They raised quite the ruckus and never even once invited her to join the fun. The crazy people were laughing and pointing and making fun of grandma the whole time while she laid in bed. They disrupted the WHOLE floor.<br />
<br />
The nerve of <em>SOME</em> people. LOL<br />
<br />
Supposedly, she NEVER left the bed. She never got up and walked. Never used the walker to walk down the hallway. Never left her room. <br />
<br />
uh huh. right. <snicker><br />
<br />
The hospital was bombed. There was a loud explosion at 4am one morning. People were running and screaming. Grandma's room was the only room not damaged. She had to get out of the bed and take cover. <em>(and she did!) Thank goodness they had set the bed alarm on her!</em><br />
<br />
They gave grandma some good $#it!<br />
<br />
For some reason, the nurses put grandma's TV and pictures on the floor. Grandma <em>(who never left her bed)</em> had to stand up to watch the TV that was lying on the floor. My mom only laid on the floor – she never sat in a chair. My aunt always walked on the slanted floor – like at a funhouse. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODEm4rD8DsuBJ9WAL2iw4Q3uHBHVhCir-uCs6V1oApglAF-CeqY2H0AqD7vtpa4DI0Xw4DPFBbuf22TdfKNzek821Ur_qyo_C8bPNlHTH26UI6ViGyC_s8B66tO2fUhdFaE2jEKuD4Pk/s1600/grandma45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODEm4rD8DsuBJ9WAL2iw4Q3uHBHVhCir-uCs6V1oApglAF-CeqY2H0AqD7vtpa4DI0Xw4DPFBbuf22TdfKNzek821Ur_qyo_C8bPNlHTH26UI6ViGyC_s8B66tO2fUhdFaE2jEKuD4Pk/s320/grandma45.jpg" width="320" /></a>But as grandma was coming off the Morphine, Dilaudid, Vicodin, and other assorted narcos, she saw goblins hanging from her ceiling. Hundreds of goblins hanging by their toes looking down at grandma and laughing. </div>
<br />
Grandma was a trip!!<br />
<br />
Don't even try telling her none of this happen. IT DID HAPPEN!! She is NOT crazy.<br />
<br />
uh huh. right. <snicker><br />
<br />
I will say this...Her doctor was not aware of how differently elderly patients react to narcotic pain medicine. They usually react totally the opposite than expected. Add on top of that hospital psychosis which is common in confined elderly patients and you've got a 95-year-old grandma who is looped out of her gourd!! The doc wanted to argue with us. He lost. He sucked.<br />
<br />
Grandma is doing better. We got her out of the hospital and she's getting detoxed with lots of bacon and fried eggs. She's happy.<br />
<br />
Now...someone give US some pain meds!!<br />
...or lots of alcohol!!<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-5032296763805436262013-08-13T17:47:00.000-05:002013-08-13T18:17:19.714-05:00Why Do We Have Fingers?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInBF_m7EqMpP5Nh_CvBMkcd6rNBIFWNJlPhNiE_FuPYAWfI-L3BOHTh_B9ewHJmnlc_l-Psrh_GR8jnlYYplOTcAPd-bdsoUcOLe-9druCnC-9p1wA3ppyhg3A2NidDLkdEmi2RGT09E/s1600/grandma40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInBF_m7EqMpP5Nh_CvBMkcd6rNBIFWNJlPhNiE_FuPYAWfI-L3BOHTh_B9ewHJmnlc_l-Psrh_GR8jnlYYplOTcAPd-bdsoUcOLe-9druCnC-9p1wA3ppyhg3A2NidDLkdEmi2RGT09E/s320/grandma40.jpg" width="320" /></a>Just stop for a moment and look at your hand. It's an amazing thing. It has five nimble fingers attached to it capable of doing all sorts of amazing things. Think of everything your hands and fingers can do. Wiggle, scratch, poke, twirl, bend, wave, demand, tap, clap, point, seduce, push and so much more. Awesome!!</div>
<br />
Keep that thought. <br />
<br />
Grandma still has all her fingers and toes. And I assume they were all still working until last night. <br />
<br />
See, grandma got up in the middle of the night around 2am to make a pit stop. OK. No biggie. We all do that. The joys of growing old.<br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">Fail #1:</span></em></strong> <em>No hands were used to turn on a light.</em> <br />
<br />
Grandma started to head back to the bed and WHACK! she did a face plant into her shower door and then bounced onto the floor landing square on her butt and back. Based on the bruising and knot on her forehead, she saw stars and probably briefly knocked herself out. Grandma laid there for a few minutes in pain. Ten minutes passed. Maybe half an hour went by. After some time, grandma CRAWLED back to her bed in the dark. On the floor. With no Life Alert button around her neck.<br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">Fail #2:</span></em></strong> <em>No hands were used to place a</em> <em>Life Alert device around your neck.</em><br />
<br />
It's going on 3am now. Grandma crawls back into bed. In the dark. In pain. She uses her hands to grab a flashlight to see what time it is. Don't ask. She lays there a long time. The Life Alert device is next to the bed with the flashlight and cool invention called <em>The Telephone</em>.<br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">Fail #3:</span></em></strong> <em>No hands were used to pick up a phone OR a Life Alert device.</em><br />
<br />
Now it's almost 5am. THREE hours later. She decides to call her daughter. <br />
<br />
<em>I've fallen and I can't get up. Should I push the Life Alert button?</em><br />
::crickets::<br />
<br />
<span style="color: orange;"><strong><em>Fail #4:</em></strong></span> <em>No fingers were used to push the damn button.</em><br />
<br />
FINALLY, grandma uses her fingers to push the Life Alert button. <br />
<br />
Mom gets to grandma's apartment as the EMTs are trying get in the gated complex. That's right. Emergency vehicles are UNABLE to get to an emergency call within a SENIOR apartment complex.<br />
<br />
<em><strong><span style="color: orange;">Fail # 5: </span></strong>Failure to plan for after hour access for emergency vehicles.</em><br />
<br />
Once they got in, they had to break down grandma's door. A door that is deadbolted from the inside at a senior apartment complex. Hmmmm...didn't anyone think that this type of facility might need to have access to get into an apartment on a more frequent basis due to the nature of the facility and its senior occupants?<br />
<br />
<span style="color: orange;"><strong><em>Fail #6:</em></strong></span><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: #666666;"><em>Failure to plan for emergencies.</em></span><br />
<br />
The EMTs were very nice. They got grandma to the hospital. X-rays and CT scans were ordered. Grandma is enjoying the morphine. Mom is looking for the scotch. Grandma has a LOT of pain and discomfort but at this time nothing appears broken. <br />
<br />
Her head matches her purple night gown and purple bedspread. At least she doesn't have blue hair. That would clash.<br />
<br />
She's going to spend a few days in the hospital to make sure everything is ok. <br />
<br />
I've asked the doctors to double check her hands and fingers to make sure they're working properly. <br />
<br />
Maybe they should check her head, too...I have some concerns. It might be short a couple of chips short of a full bag.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-14544083721560325342013-07-16T17:47:00.001-05:002013-07-17T11:34:38.229-05:00A Birthday Gamble<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqsg1hoOUuJH0a2QIrxhdDpnFRaA6WhXvps6wGvQjHNlK6cCij7bViFksU1BhCDb6KvhH5fOuP4kNlhVb-2WhgUJ3GgbOzSYzAGv6f7narer3V4WWgXHM0Bw9faKIOrHjdI6YfykGd7M/s1600/grandma37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqsg1hoOUuJH0a2QIrxhdDpnFRaA6WhXvps6wGvQjHNlK6cCij7bViFksU1BhCDb6KvhH5fOuP4kNlhVb-2WhgUJ3GgbOzSYzAGv6f7narer3V4WWgXHM0Bw9faKIOrHjdI6YfykGd7M/s320/grandma37.jpg" width="320" /></a>Last week was birthday week in our family. We have three birthdays in July. That means 33 percent of our family still living was born in July. Fireworks for everyone! And not just the ones that make sparkly booms in the night sky.</div>
<br />
Grandma and her sister, Auntie M, went to <em>The Boat</em> for four days on a gambling junket. Grandma was so excited about going...she was counting down the days, hours and minutes before she went...nothing else mattered. But this meant she would be gone for her daughter's birthday. <br />
<br />
Oh well...we have priorities.<br />
<br />
Mom took grandma to the drop-off point and passed grandma and her baggage off to Auntie M and her cousin and off they went to <em>The Boat</em> like a couple of high school teenagers. <br />
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Grandma has led a basically "clean" life. Auntie M ... let's just say she's had lots of fun. A few years back after granddaddy died, Auntie M took grandma to <em>The Boat</em>. Grandma hasn't looked back since! They love dancing with the one-armed bandits. </div>
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Giving those two sisters a bucket of quarters is like putting a 5-year-old in front of the TV. Instant babysitter!!</div>
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Now, Auntie M is very forgetful. She claims she has never gambled and doesn't like it. Grandma can't wait to go gambling again. </div>
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If you wonder what that whirling noise you hear, that's granddaddy spinning in his grave.</div>
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So grandma got her gambling fix. She'll be good for a 2-3 months. She came home VERY happy.</div>
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Time for birthdays and cake, right?! HA! </div>
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We went out to eat to celebrate both my mom (HER daughter) and my son's birthdays. I never heard grandma wish my mom a "happy birthday." Just...</div>
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<em>"Did you get my card?"</em></div>
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HUH?!</div>
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She mailed mom her birthday card. Save the stamp!! You saw her before and after her birthday. You spent 4 hours in the car with her. Where were the warm fuzzies?</div>
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Obviously, grandma is one of few words. Maybe she's saving them up for a rainy day. </div>
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Guess it's going to be real quiet around here because obviously we're in a drought. </div>
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Hell!! It's Summer in Texas!</div>
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Think I'll go find ME a Magnum Ice Cream Bar!!</div>
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-78945937025589475532013-07-01T21:49:00.001-05:002013-07-01T21:50:11.688-05:00Hello!? Anybody Home?!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3AaRavt6PvoyeMgX7Y-m9SV5v4lMTUPQpkLwZUw2Hc9-axFaBXfUAO28MfTi0rlgmnISZDOk0C0URSgIHayzrzDg2t0xEYDwli2n9y-7zwTUXL_aXdDFqmrHnbWDmEs9zrndRsUM2-M/s488/grandma40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ3AaRavt6PvoyeMgX7Y-m9SV5v4lMTUPQpkLwZUw2Hc9-axFaBXfUAO28MfTi0rlgmnISZDOk0C0URSgIHayzrzDg2t0xEYDwli2n9y-7zwTUXL_aXdDFqmrHnbWDmEs9zrndRsUM2-M/s488/grandma40.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
Many times over the years I have often imagined I was adopted. There's no way I could be related to this crazy bunch.<br />
<br />
Well, now I'm convinced it wasn't me that was adopted...it was my mother!! <br />
<br />
Everyone thinks my grandma is the sweetest thing ever. Yes. She can be. When it comes to everyone but her family.<br />
<br />
Used to, we'd invite grandma to come stay with us for the holidays or go on a trip. Grandma's reply was always, <i>"Maybe. We'll see."</i> She would never commit. She was always waiting for a better offer.<br />
<br />
She'd rather spend her time with her sister and her sister's family than with any of her own. So, we quit asking.<br />
<br />
Now, one of her daughters has been diagnosed with breast cancer. It was caught very early. The prognosis is great. The doctors are very optimistic.<br />
<br />
Grandma needed to be told.<br />
<br />
Family was gathered for a casual dinner. At the end, her daughter tells grandma she'll be having surgery within the next month to have a cancerous lump removed. Without missing a beat, grandma says...<br />
<br />
<i>"I've got a lump under my arm I've had for a long time. Got another one under the other arm."</i><br />
<br />
[crickets]<br />
<br />
I looked at grandma. I was totally dumbfounded...speechless.That doesn't happen often for me.<br />
<br />
I reiterate to grandma... <i>"Grandma, she has a CANCEROUS lump."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Yep. I know."</i><br />
<br />
[crickets]<br />
<br />
Check, please!<br />
<br />
About 10-15 minutes later, grandma finally inquires about some VERY minor details. And then made a very simple and distant comment, <i>"You better get that taken care of." </i>Not a whole lot of warmth or compassion was radiating out of grandma tonight. The ice tea was warmer.<br />
<br />
When I dropped her off at her apartment, grandma just said, <i>"Bye. I had fun. Food was good. Talk to you later."</i><br />
<br />
[crickets]<br />
<br />
I'm totally speechless. Totally dumbfounded.<br />
<br />
Maybe she needs time to process what she heard.<br />
Maybe the lump under her arms has spread to between her shoulders.<br />
Maybe... nevermind.<br />
<br />
<br />whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-87773509049829529342013-06-28T17:17:00.001-05:002013-06-28T17:27:53.754-05:00You're So Vain, I Bet You Think This Blog is About You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMZLTpMlQ4uAvemNUVgrW8cXKSNUNufeNLtDYbM5sqS4xYOadksdGgA1BHmCQguNBdO7kyFgPhEArWMH388ceCl4ImAXfyefMKUSWyUC-WbWp3dov03ao291bgfHZBjiXBOAJY3h4iBQ/s550/grandma34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMZLTpMlQ4uAvemNUVgrW8cXKSNUNufeNLtDYbM5sqS4xYOadksdGgA1BHmCQguNBdO7kyFgPhEArWMH388ceCl4ImAXfyefMKUSWyUC-WbWp3dov03ao291bgfHZBjiXBOAJY3h4iBQ/s320/grandma34.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">A big welcome our guest writer, Grandma's great-grandson!! He writes of their recent adventure to the beauty shop and drug store. Enjoy! </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">~~~~~~~</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Blessed art the vain, for they shalt be
spoke of fondly in the words of their friends, hopefully.</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My
grandmother had appointments lined up all morning/afternoon, so, as per the
Trickle Down effect, I got to take great-grandma to her town happenings.
She was in a decent mood when I picked her up. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Our
car rides are usually quiet. Small talk is attempted, but it doesn't really go
anywhere. I've learned to just focus on the classical music I have playing. Makes
the whole experience at least somewhat enjoyable. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After
dropping her off at the beauty shop, I then went and picked up her sewing fabric from my grandmother's
house. Nothing too major, didn't mind doing it. Then I w</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">ent
home, played a game for about 15 minutes, then it was time to set sail and go
pick her up. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now
came the fun part: finding things at a drug store that she wasn't able to
get at the small grocery store. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On
her list: Aveeno (no type), Mousse, Advil PM, Advil, Allergy</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Just
staring at the list, I can feel the time I would have had be ground into a fine
powder. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Guiding
her through a store is like pulling the leash on a choke collar which she
barely responds to: Ineffective, and you look stupid for trying.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
managed to find an Aveeno section, and then asked her what kind it was she needed.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>"I
don't know, but it was on the TV, and it gets rid of age spots."</em></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
have seen her buy several face and body creams while she's been here. I don't
know if she's actually ever stuck to a regimen of one for the designed amount
of time. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So
now I'm forced to look at each and every bottle, looking for keywords like
"age," "spots," or "old." No such luck. She
eventually gives up, saying she'd rather know what it is than waste money on
something she doesn't know if it will. Fair judgment. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Total time wasted: 15
minutes.</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
Mousse Adventure wasn't nearly as exciting. She knew the brand she wanted, and then just
picked a type at random. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Total time extinguished: 20 minutes.</strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next
came the pills. I don't think she even knows what she takes or why she takes them.
I doubt she follows orders on them, so, in retrospect, this whole scene tickles
me a bit. Please put down anything you are eating or drinking to avoid fatal
risks for this part. We went into the allergy part first. I asked her what
brand it was she needed.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>"I
don't know, but it has 'allergy' on the bottle."</em></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh,
yeah, that's great, narrows the list down a fraction. It's not like a lot of
the bottles for allergy medications put the word "ALLERGY" on the
bottle, or in what it combats, or in its directions sectiOH WAIT. She ended up,
again, picking one she thought she uses (in other words, roulette). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Total time
tossed: 30 minutes. </strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The
Advil was just a pain in attempting. She said she didn't need too many, as she
didn't take a lot. She settled on 100 normal Advil and 48 Advil PM. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Total time
perished: 35 minutes. </strong></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As
we make our way to the front, she gets me to grab a bag of potting soil
(<em>"Oh, it's just a dollar, get one of those!"</em>). She wouldn't get a pot
there because they were expensive. Bear in mind she thinks a small pot at $2.29
is expensive. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We
make it to the check-out, and the clerk asks if we found everything ok. She
asks about the Aveeno, in just as vague of terms she used with me. The clerk
directs us back to the section to find the lady working there, who wasn't there
previously. Goodness, I felt so sorry for her, as now she has to abandon all
rationality and try and find what this coot is looking for. She was a stout lady
of Indian descent. Spoke great English, and I managed to make out at least 87%
of what she said through the accent, which is an accomplishment in my book.
Even more so, my great-grandma understood her. That, I think, was the most
shocking part of that.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">By
this time, I'm nearly at the end of my rope and struggling to hang on. The two go
back and forth about what she's looking for, as she did with me. The lady goes
over to the section we went to previously, looks there at each bottle (AGAIN)
but goes over to a different section. We follow, and she shows her a couple of
options. Some are cover-ups, some are lotions, and I'll be buggered if grandma
didn't look at all the choices. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At
several points, the lady grabs one and asks me if this is the one she wants. I
look it over, and try to talk to the lady about what she's looking for in
better terms (<em>"something that fights brown spots?"</em>). Eventually, we
find one that the lady herself uses. As the lady is describing how bad her old
brown spots on her face were, great-grandma's looking the box up and down.
I don't know why, since she can barely see as it is. When she looks to see what
the price is, the whole store surely heard her exclaim, <em>"Good NIGHT!
A little over $16 for the bottle!?"</em> The kicker? After looking at it for a few
more seconds, she says, <em>"Well, I guess I'll try it."</em> Remember the small
pots? Yeah, neither did she. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After
she pays (by check) for everything, we head out. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><strong>Total time annihilated: One
hour, nine minutes. </strong></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even in Texas, there's never a noose when you need one. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
get her back to her house, unpack her things, trim her fat cat's claws, make sure she's
got food and television, the latter being of the utmost importance if we wish
to be happy. Goodbyes said, I finally departed from babysitting. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; tab-stops: .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The comforts
of my own home and my own room were never so inviting. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span>whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-27966907423479207732013-05-19T15:33:00.000-05:002013-05-19T15:44:28.533-05:00Ham...The New Fruitcake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwN-SY8yX_Vz6PEDXC7MHBZw8qKDb97GfaGlxZN3BQnvVsv2mlOU7XMY0GCIFnl9QBeP98fCtjgRvSiBZY-V4xu1SMZlijYkTk8fkJPzkBnIm_1_ZsgoB7M9k6GEUr3QF8_akO4b8u-0/s1600/gm+HamDinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuwN-SY8yX_Vz6PEDXC7MHBZw8qKDb97GfaGlxZN3BQnvVsv2mlOU7XMY0GCIFnl9QBeP98fCtjgRvSiBZY-V4xu1SMZlijYkTk8fkJPzkBnIm_1_ZsgoB7M9k6GEUr3QF8_akO4b8u-0/s1600/gm+HamDinner.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a></div>
Once upon a time, in a reality far, far, FAR away, lived a little old grandma with too much time on her hands. Everyday she would go to the grocery store to buy food for the day never believing to consolidate her trips to save gas or money.<br />
<br />
One day while wondering the grocery store and visiting with the many other town folk who were enjoying their daily trip to the store, grandma found a lovely ham. A ham like no other ham. A ham of magnificent proportions. A ham to beat all other hams. A cheap, damn ham. Grandma thought she must have this ham to put in her freezer for use later when company came to call. She will cook it and everyone will enjoy the delicious ham she found. So she bought the cheap, damn ham and took it home.<br />
<br />
The ham went home with grandma where it rested in her refrigerator for several days. Grandma removed all the labeling and wrapped it loosely in tinfoil and a plastic grocery sack and placed it in her freezer. There the ham stayed. And stayed. And stayed. For how long, no one knows for sure. <br />
<br />
Until one day grandma moved. The freezer was loaded onto the truck with all its treasured frozen foods...her pecans, peaches, Magnum Ice Cream bars and the cheap, damn ham...and off to the big city they went. It moved to a new home with a new family where they began filling it with new things like vegetables and chicken and pork chops and beef and pizza for the boy.<br />
<br />
Grandma started missing her freezer. She was concerned about her pecans, peaches, Magnum Ice Cream bars and the cheap, damn ham. She grew lonely because her new freezer was empty. The new family took grandma her Magnum Ice Cream bars and pecans and peaches but grandma was still uneasy. She was concerned about her ham.<br />
<br />
She asked weekly and then began asking daily about her ham. <i>"You need to cook the ham." "Have you cooked the ham yet?" "Take the ham to your mother and let her cook and eat the ham." "How's the ham?"</i><br />
<br />
Finally, the new family took the frozen, cheap, damn ham to grandma's new freezer.<i> "Please, cook the ham. Eat it and enjoy. It's yours." </i><br />
<br />
Grandma didn't cook the ham. It sat lonely in her new freezer. The pecans and peaches were gone and the Magnum Ice Cream bars were eaten LONG ago.<br />
<br />
<br />
The ham was sad. No one wanted it it. The cheap, damn ham felt unloved. <br />
<br />
Then one day, grandma gave the cheap, damn ham to a new home! It was SO excited!! Maybe this home wanted it. Maybe someone would finally cook the cheap, damn ham and love it and make sandwiches and soup and sandwiches.<br />
<br />
Wrong.<br />
<br />
The cheap, damn ham went to a new home with a new freezer with new friends...a fruitcake. The fruitcake was loosely wrapped in tinfoil in a grocery bag. The cheap, damn ham and the fruitcake became best buddies and welcomed all the other new friends wrapped loosely in tinfoil that came to stay throughout the years.<br />
<br />
The End.<br />
<br />whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-38021007440343870172013-05-13T11:39:00.001-05:002013-05-13T11:39:40.486-05:00Mother's Day ...Grandma's Version<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPapfG78A-KWqrWQD0kTnKXGmeOn_lQ9FxDChc16HgyNRAis084Md5G9fxLh_tRKOIRtoAhiKcIaykGI0yxaU3swp4w30JMEPaEVYuIdmQe5MBeglU7UQJi1PuPSafbjtPyJT_ZBzK3U/s1600/grandma31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPapfG78A-KWqrWQD0kTnKXGmeOn_lQ9FxDChc16HgyNRAis084Md5G9fxLh_tRKOIRtoAhiKcIaykGI0yxaU3swp4w30JMEPaEVYuIdmQe5MBeglU7UQJi1PuPSafbjtPyJT_ZBzK3U/s320/grandma31.jpg" width="262" /></a>It was Mother's Day weekend. It was a weekend spent with family. It was a weekend with lots of food and fun and frivolity. It was a weekend with grandma. </div>
<br />
I don't think she enjoyed it ... not one cotton pickin' minute of it. <br />
<br />
Saturday, grandma, mom and I went to see my son perform in a play he is in for children's theater. "The Days and Knights of King Arthur" – it was fun and cheesy...perfect for the intended audience...kids! :) Grandma didn't understand it. Then she was worried about my son throughout the play because it's VERY physical...LOTS of sword fighting and stunts. It's knights of the roundtable! DUH!<br />
<br />
Grandma doesn't like my driving. The whole time she's holding on to the hand grip on the ceiling as she watched my speedometer. I swear I never went more than 10 mph over the limit. :P<br />
<br />
At lunch on Saturday, grandma declared I could NOT schedule her. She was going to do what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it. <br />
<br />
right. uh huh. sure.<br />
<br />
Just like you're going to get yourself a car so you can drive yourself whereever.<br />
<br />
uh huh. sure.<br />
<br />
She needs to be regulated. We can't stop and run her to the store every 5 minutes because she needs a can of tuna. She needs to plan her errands better. Consolidate her grocery lists. Grandma's entertainment back home consisted of running to the grocery store every time she needed a square of toilet paper. I'm going to teach her to buy in bulk...They've got this new thing now, grandma... It's a WHOLE roll of toilet paper!!! O.M.G. The things they'll think of next!!! :P<br />
<br />
I did make grandma's day for one brief moment. I stopped by her apartment later with a new box of MAGNUM ICE CREAM bars!!! You should have seen her face light up. LOL It was one of the new boxes of MINI double caramel bars. Her favorite. I wasn't gone 5 minutes before she was tearing into one.<br />
<br />
Our plans for Mother's Day Sunday consisted of taking grandma to church and then lunch at my mom's house. For someone who always claims not to be hungry, that woman sure can put away the food!! Her rib bone gnawing skills give any pitbull a run for its money. <br />
<br />
After dinner, grandma got herself a mini MAGNUM ICE CREAM bar. She savored every bite. She cleaned the stick better than she cleaned the rib bones. I should be embarassed. LOL Grandma quickly exclaimed,<em> "You could eat 2 or 3 of these little ones!! Think I'll have another!"</em> <br />
<br />
That was the highlight of her whole weekend. Magnum Ice Cream bars.<br />
<br />
She sure as hell didn't like the dry-erase calendar I got for her and filled out and put up on her refrigerator door to help her schedule her days. I even had the nerve to rearrange her refrigerator magnets. (We gave her some nice things, too, jewelry and a bird feeder with shepherd's hook and seed.)<br />
<br />
Ain't I a devil!! /snort!<br />
<br />
I lay odds that she's already moved the calendar...maybe even erased it...and put her magnets back how they were. Remember...<em>I'm <u>NOT</u> going to schedule her.</em> <br />
<br />
I think I know where our family stubbornness originated. <br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-7878955219967305052013-05-07T16:37:00.000-05:002013-05-07T16:37:31.908-05:00Let's Be Pissy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkU-2116LaRDFshg52iTjaXjjbLGUvIjCIIc3IRKZ2kxVSh5oheGGmZiu9uGG_DypbYtkjfYRgTAYUEucn5pWswgU401MIOsgAOJRRR7shKtU553UPJIoMMbWGQ3UVh87jjHxrHRwX1c/s1600/grandma29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkU-2116LaRDFshg52iTjaXjjbLGUvIjCIIc3IRKZ2kxVSh5oheGGmZiu9uGG_DypbYtkjfYRgTAYUEucn5pWswgU401MIOsgAOJRRR7shKtU553UPJIoMMbWGQ3UVh87jjHxrHRwX1c/s320/grandma29.jpg" width="320" /></a>I swear!! This woman is freaking nuts! Bipolar. Cracked. Whacked. Evil!!</div>
<br />
Every week I check to see if grandma needs to go anywhere...store, groceries, nursery, pedicure ...just out. <br />
Every time she says "no". <br />
Mom asks her. My son asks her. <br />
Every time she says "no". <br />
<br />
Mom will finally get grandma to the grocery store where grandma proceeds to buy nothing. <br />
<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: magenta;">m:</span></em></strong> "Let's get you some groceries."<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;"><em>g:</em></span></strong> <em>"I don't need anything."</em> <br />
<strong><em><span style="color: magenta;">m:</span></em></strong> "What about some meat to cook."<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">g:</span></em></strong> <em>"I'm not hungry and I'm cutting back on meat."</em><br />
::HUH?!::<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: magenta;">m:</span></em></strong> "Let's go get a pedicure."<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">g:</span></em></strong> "<em>Nah, they're fine."</em> <br />
<strong><em><span style="color: magenta;">m:</span></em></strong> "Let's go get a hamburger."<br />
<strong><em><span style="color: orange;">g:</span></em></strong> "<em>Not today...no meat."</em><br />
<br />
::head desk::<br />
<br />
We have to basically drag her out of her apartment to do things. I think it boils down to she doesn't want to spend time with us. <br />
<br />
Her loss.<br />
<br />
THEN her other daughter, Aunt B, calls grandma. Aunt B asks if she wants to go get a pedicure and something to eat. Grandma couldn't get dressed fast enough! <br />
<br />
Grandma calls my mom gloating to say she's going for a pedicure and dinner with Aunt B. <br />
<br />
HELLO!? Didn't mom just ask you to do that?<br />
<br />
She had a <em>lovely</em> time. /snark <br />
She even picked up some meat to cook because she likes pork chops.<br />
She loves to stir the pot. <br />
<br />
I thought you're suppose to mellow with age. This one is just getting down right moldy.<br />
<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-65012933119094670542013-05-02T17:06:00.000-05:002013-05-02T17:06:53.263-05:00Gambling Granny<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6qDq1pyevOPMNmpCxkCtgqX9lMNuhMY9aov4SxLxvjSJ09f3k2DHLM5vyub4cVgMgMHReVAtCk-XlDTiGzmpQGtPGQ4ZCYUQ3nsWYnoFL5h5Mg67A56gH4OQhc25ohyRgHeScX7Bskg/s1600/grandma28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6qDq1pyevOPMNmpCxkCtgqX9lMNuhMY9aov4SxLxvjSJ09f3k2DHLM5vyub4cVgMgMHReVAtCk-XlDTiGzmpQGtPGQ4ZCYUQ3nsWYnoFL5h5Mg67A56gH4OQhc25ohyRgHeScX7Bskg/s320/grandma28.jpg" width="320" /></a>My grandma loves the slots. </div>
<br />
She and her sister, Auntie M, LOVE to go to <em>The Boat</em>. There's nothing like seeing two 90-year-old grandmas, each with a bucket full of quarters, dancing with the one armed bandits. <br />
<br />
They're totally different women once the sounds of the slot machines hit their ears. <br />
<br />
GET OUT OF THEIR WAY!! <br />
GRANNIES ON A MISSION!!<br />
<br />
Yeah. A mission to gamble the night away. LOL<br />
<br />
Since grandma moved two months ago, she has not been gambling. She's going through withdrawals. She's starting to get grumpy. (How can we tell the difference? Trust me...she's pissier than usual. LOL)<br />
<br />
Hallelujah for Auntie M's granddaughter! She's coming to get grandma next week to take her to visit Auntie M and then take them to <em>The Boat</em>. <br />
<br />
That means we have cat duty. Grandma's cat will need feeding. Not a problem...EXCEPT...<br />
<br />
Grandma has told us we will go over 2 to 3 times a day. Once in the morning to feed him canned cat food. Once during the day to see how he is. And, then once in the evening to feed him MORE canned cat food. <br />
<br />
Guess what! <br />
<br />
He's getting DRY cat food all the time and then canned cat food once a day. He'll be fine. He'll be happy she's not chasing him all over the house! It will be like a vacation for him. And he'll be JUST peachy and content.<br />
<br />
My cats have survived all these years...I haven't lost one yet because they ate dry food while I was away...but I did find cat prints on the ceiling once. Still haven't figured that one out yet.<br />
<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-7889699355960732722013-04-22T17:03:00.000-05:002013-04-25T16:42:49.603-05:00Birthday Dinner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIW_eWZYXV6YZEGTNG0JFbpnvZTePnIoEq5g_J6VyRE2jb3uP0drW4TQtzu-7TxhZABLJ3mQKifMnGpa5OLlDccCSo6xM7FZgjsnYqZFC2r51CT4dLvUIuSeFZa3nJvNjPTKAXJVbjBVY/s1600/grandma10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIW_eWZYXV6YZEGTNG0JFbpnvZTePnIoEq5g_J6VyRE2jb3uP0drW4TQtzu-7TxhZABLJ3mQKifMnGpa5OLlDccCSo6xM7FZgjsnYqZFC2r51CT4dLvUIuSeFZa3nJvNjPTKAXJVbjBVY/s320/grandma10.jpg" width="306" /></a>I have so many stories to tell; I just don't know where to start. </div>
<br />
Grandma has been in rare form these days. Rarer than usual. Pissy. Cantankerous. Obstinate. Stubborn. Narrow-minded. Grandma. <br />
<br />
Take this weekend for example.<br />
<br />
It was my 50th birthday. WOOHOO!!! I get to pick the restaurant and surround myself with friends and family that hopefully love me. YAY!!! <br />
<br />
I don't know if Grandma wants to be on that list. <br />
<br />
Friday came. I got lots of well wishes – emails, phone calls, hugs – from everyone...except Grandma. <br />
<br />
I called to let her know what time I'd pick her up so we could go to dinner. All she could think about was why my mom wasn't picking her up. Not once did she wish me a happy birthday through the whole conversation.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: orange;"><strong>m: </strong></span></span><span style="color: black;"><em>"I'm going to pick you up about 6:30."</em></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g: </span></strong><em>"Your mom said she'd pick me up."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong><em>"But I'm going to pick you up instead."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g: </span></strong><em>"But your mom said she'd pick me up."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong><em>"She's picking up J so I'm going to pick you up."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g: </span></strong><em>"OK"</em> ....pause... <em>"But your mom said she was picking me up."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong><em>"Do you want mom to pick you up?"</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g: </span></strong><em>"No, that's ok I suppose."</em><br />
<br />
::head desk::<br />
<br />
We finally get her in the car and head to the restaurant when she asks if we're going for Mexican food. OOOPS! I forgot to tell her where we're going. See, Grandma likes her food basic. Meat. Potatoes. Enchiladas. Steak. Chicken. Homestyle Southern cooking. OOOOPS! I picked the restaurant. OOOOOPS!!! We're going for Persian! ROFLMAO!!<br />
<br />
I wish you could have seen the look on Grandma's face when I told her that. I almost wrecked the car! LOL The first words out of her mouth... <em>"Why do y'all always have to eat that WEIRD food?!"</em> <br />
<br />
There was no convincing her that it was going to be good. No way. No how. Her mind was made up this dinner was going to suck.<br />
<br />
We get there. She plops down at the end of the table. Barely speaks to anyone. I can't get her involved in any conversation. She stares at the menu and is just dumbfounded and starts making snarky comments about how is she suppose to order if she can't even pronounce it. (<em>An English translation was right next to the name.</em>) <br />
<br />
Finally, got her to order some chicken and rice...can't go wrong with that...so I thought. Grandma took THREE bites of her chicken. She didn't like it because it was burnt. BURNT?!? That's char marks from the grill, Grandma!!!! She did eat both her tomato halves and rice, and then stole my son's tomato. AND she scarfed down probably a half a thing of the flattoon bread with radishes and HUMMUS. YES! She ate HUMMUS and liked it. O.M.G.!!! <br />
<br />
At least Grandma didn't go home hungry. She filled up on birthday cake and hummus.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRogaAANzTe2eH3KXf22EztgoEiQr0oztfeg0wTDC-Ru5Q1HZGtJNgKY88W-mm6Q59ldcaFoSEb3o49815xsocdBS1ymsBAHGhPCHkR5pjQtOp32Hs-MBbzbRrul9nRR1so2zTbLFne9E/s1600/bday+dinner4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRogaAANzTe2eH3KXf22EztgoEiQr0oztfeg0wTDC-Ru5Q1HZGtJNgKY88W-mm6Q59ldcaFoSEb3o49815xsocdBS1ymsBAHGhPCHkR5pjQtOp32Hs-MBbzbRrul9nRR1so2zTbLFne9E/s400/bday+dinner4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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For Mother's Day, I think I'm going to suggest we go eat Indian food. Curry, tandoori, naan, kadhi, etc, YUM!!!!!whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-53215334819895908812013-04-04T16:23:00.000-05:002013-04-04T16:36:32.305-05:00Don't Touch That Dial!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCuzQOQTf7yRBExcVaHR8e4YdUmqs3sUEJ_D0erQAaJ9NDCWdjj_uu4Nxks6jVj2kyIa3F7_6xhdIzoqhx5_Y4jS0SP5hp4bAwsiWTaBjapty0TGVOdUpFp0_OM4qKotkOvhz-GWjPKg/s1600/grandma25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirCuzQOQTf7yRBExcVaHR8e4YdUmqs3sUEJ_D0erQAaJ9NDCWdjj_uu4Nxks6jVj2kyIa3F7_6xhdIzoqhx5_Y4jS0SP5hp4bAwsiWTaBjapty0TGVOdUpFp0_OM4qKotkOvhz-GWjPKg/s320/grandma25.jpg" width="320" /></a>Maybe you remember the criteria for a new washing machine that grandma had from my previous post (<a href="http://boxingupgrandma.blogspot.com/2013/02/washboard-abs.html" target="_blank">Washboard Abs</a>)...</div>
<br />
• Cheap<br />
• Simple to use<br />
• Cheap<br />
• Not a lot of buttons<br />
• Cheap<br />
• Oh, and CHEAP!<br />
<br />
I still stand by my suggestion...get her a washboard and tub. But noooooooooooo!! <br />
<br />
Grandma got a generic Whirlpool. It has ONLY 3 dials. One for hot, cold, or warm water. One for large, medium, or small load. And one for the type of load (heavy, delicate, normal). It also has a start button and a row of cycle indicator lights. Pretty lights. Pretty simple. Pretty cheap.<br />
<br />
The washer and dryer got delivered and hooked up. Grandma ran several loads through just fine. One week later we get a phone call... "<em>We need to send the washing machine back. It's not working. The dial won't turn</em>." <br />
<br />
Really?!<br />
<br />
Mom goes over to see what's up. They both can't get it to work. <br />
<br />
Seriously?! and my mom is pretty smart.<br />
<br />
Mom tells grandma I'm mechanical and I'll be over after work to see what's wrong.<br />
<br />
Right. Call me Mrs. Maytag.<br />
<br />
Grandma and I go over what happened after she put a load in to wash. Added soap. Set it to delicate. Closed the lid. Pushed the start button. Water filled the tub but the dial never turned. It's not working. When she opened the lid. It was full of water. The DIAL never turned. <br />
<br />
hmmmmm. Things are getting clearer. Time for Mrs. Maytag. <br />
<br />
After closing the lid and pushing the start button, I pulled up a chair and plopped in front of the washing machine. No matter what they say, watching a washing machine work is NOT like watching TV. It's more like watching the grass grow.<br />
<br />
Grandmother kept popping her head in complaining about the washing machine. She's "<em>never had a washing machine that makes this much noise</em>." She "<em>hears [her] neighbor's washer and it doesn't sound anything like this one</em>." Hello?! You HEAR your neighbor's washer? uh huh. And you think YOURS is loud? uh huh. <br />
<br />
Amazing, the washing machine worked. It must be my aura. I have this incredible aura that works magic. The LIGHTS cycled through their stages...fill...wash...rinse...final spin...complete. The lid unlocked and VOILA! clean clothes!<br />
<br />
AMAZING!!! I work miracles!!! <em>...and the crowd goes wild...</em> yeah. right.<br />
<br />
Turns out the DIAL is not designed to turn while washing. It does not move through the cycles...that's what the INDICATOR lights are for...DUH! Just set it and forget it. (I sound like a infomercial.)<br />
<br />
Grandma swears she's never touching the dial again...until next time.<br />
<br />
I'm keeping my Maytag uniform close by.whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-7082328940475209782013-03-19T16:05:00.003-05:002013-03-19T16:05:45.092-05:00Pulling My Hair Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7a8dVYYFt0el0fU6fQ-Kc_flzcfdi7WEz2pspeuozcefxVQxVQ3XWgiqjgMjGWGHs5Ux9vMYvinHUZzU-0X7RBWJZZkCpadWnMFSnNlMv0twc1yJ1XleNy4ACRKo7soFYOntIldIELE/s1600/grandma25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7a8dVYYFt0el0fU6fQ-Kc_flzcfdi7WEz2pspeuozcefxVQxVQ3XWgiqjgMjGWGHs5Ux9vMYvinHUZzU-0X7RBWJZZkCpadWnMFSnNlMv0twc1yJ1XleNy4ACRKo7soFYOntIldIELE/s320/grandma25.jpg" width="213" /></a>For years grandma has gotten her hair done weekly. She has always had a standing appointment to get a wash and set under the dryer every Friday so she was ready for the weekend. Ready for church. Ready for <em>The Boat</em>. Wooooooooo doggie!!<br /><br />One of the amenities of her new senior apartment is a beautician that comes onsite every Wednesday to do hair. Grandma doesn't have to drive or be driven anywhere. How cool is that!?!?! <br /><br />Not very cool if you ask grandma.<br /><br />I won't go into her description of the robust beautician. Trust me...it's for the best. I won't talk about how the woman's arms are too short to reach grandma's hair as the beautician tries to maneuver around her large boobs and tummy. <br /><br />Grandma paid $15 for a wash and set back home.<br />At the apartment she'll pay $35 for a "delivered" wash and set.</div>
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A perm back home was $45.</div>
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A perm at the apartment is $70.</div>
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</div>
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Welcome to the big city.</div>
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SO NOW!!!!! Grandma has decided she wants us to take her back home to get her hair done. </div>
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EXCUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSE ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?</div>
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WTH!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?</div>
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I DON'T THINK SO!!!!!!!</div>
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Let's figure this out.</div>
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It takes TWO tanks of gas for a round trip back home. That's $100.</div>
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I get lunch and snacks. That's another $10-15. (I'm a cheap date.)</div>
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Then there's my time off from work PLUS the exhaustion from the one-day 320-mile round trip. And I'll probably need a six-pack of Corona to recover ($10)</div>
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Don't forget the actual cost of the perm: $45.</div>
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That's OVER $170 for a damn perm!!!! Are you nuts?!</div>
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::head desk::</div>
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If you don't like this beautician at the apartment, we'll find you another one. We are NOT driving back and forth 320 miles to get your hair done.</div>
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I'm going to be bald by the time we get her settled and adjusted and in a routine. </div>
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whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-56727517141089339312013-03-18T14:13:00.000-05:002013-03-18T17:02:38.020-05:00Weekend is Over! Amen!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkETKyFJXSTVORlKQzeoCy8PuxA9_eEFB5bO-FvaMQIqSaaIVnIwtBRwuc_8aAMuxD86jcNIZ45MHdUk2XPb3EjustuvTWqAdpgWPp-6CdT6XFQAfLSrUOHYpcnVS2g_1HlYiOMN9Qw7c/s1600/grandma24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkETKyFJXSTVORlKQzeoCy8PuxA9_eEFB5bO-FvaMQIqSaaIVnIwtBRwuc_8aAMuxD86jcNIZ45MHdUk2XPb3EjustuvTWqAdpgWPp-6CdT6XFQAfLSrUOHYpcnVS2g_1HlYiOMN9Qw7c/s320/grandma24.jpg" width="320" /></a>It was a busy weekend! I had a plan <u><em><strong>BUT</strong></em></u> we all know how plans work with grandma. Not well.</div>
<br />
MY plan was to take her grocery shopping and any errands she might have on Saturday. That didn't happen. Seems grandma had OTHER plans...like not telling me she had company coming over. Company was her grandson and great-grandson. Nice! :) I'll text him and get HIM to take her to the grocery store. No doing. She won't budge. Says she'll get my mom or my son to take her next week. THAT'S NOT THE PLAN!! They can't do EVERYTHING!! This fouls up MY plans! <br />
<br />
::head desk::<br />
<br />
I tried to plan Sunday. HA! <br />
<br />
Grandma wants to go to our old church where all her old friends are still going. OK. This is good. I find out that services start at 10:30 (classes at 9:30). She only wants to go to services. Not a problem. She lives 15 minutes away so I tell her I'll pick her up at 10:00 to get us there in time and not be rushed. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g:</span></strong><em> "I don't want to get there too early. I don't want to go to class."</em> <br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m:</span></strong> "Yes, services start at 10:30. I'll pick you up at 10:00." <br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><strong>g:</strong></span><em> </em><em>"You're sure that's not when class starts."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong>"Yes, grandmother. Be ready at 10:00. It will take me 5-10 minutes to get you in the car."<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g:</span></strong><em> </em> <em>"I move faster than that."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong>"Maybe I don't. We'll go to the grocery store after church."<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;"><span style="color: magenta;">g:<em></em></span> </span></strong><em>"I don't need anything."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong>"Do you have milk? orange juice? bread? fruit?"<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;"><span style="color: magenta;">g:<em></em></span> </span></strong><em>"No, but I get lunch here."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong>"What are you doing for breakfast and supper?"<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;"><span style="color: magenta;">g:<em></em></span> </span></strong><em>"Oh. I'm not hungry."</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m: </span></strong>"I'll pick you up at 10 tomorrow morning. See you then."<br />
<br />
just shoot me now.<br />
<br />
Sunday rolls around. I get there at 10:00 sharp. She's ready. We leave her place at 10:06...after locking the door and fixing the car seat and refixing the car seat. (it was too far back. it was too far forward.) We got to church at 10:20. ALMOST too early!!<br />
<br />
EVERYONE was sooooooo surprised to see grandma!! It's probably been 20 years since she's been back to the church we grew up in. They hugged the stuffing out of her. She was queen again. Church was late getting started because of everyone saying "hello" and hugging her. They mentioned her being there during the announcements, during the song service, during the sermon and during the closing prayer. AMEN! Yes, the woman is here! Hide your children!!<br />
<br />
ENOUGH! I just got her head back down to normal size!!<br />
<br />
Of course, they wanted to take her out to eat after church. It's a ritual. Church. Lunch. Nap.<br />
<br />
<em>ahem...grocery shopping, grandma?</em> Pick one...food for a week or lunch for a day. Can you guess which one won? yep. right. Lunch. not <em>MY</em> plan. <br />
<br />
Lunch was with a family from years ago. They have a daughter my age that was there so we got to catch up while grandma chatted up a storm at the other end of the table and freely telling them <em>"It's sad. She [me] hasn't dated since her divorce 14 years ago."</em> EXCUSE ME!? HELLO! I'm sitting right here!! I AM dating!! ooops. Me and my mouth.<br />
<br />
No sooner than we get in the car, grandma starts in with the twenty questions. <br />
<em>"So tell me more about this man. We lose one and gain one."</em> <em>(my cousin is separating) </em><br />
<br />
Let me divert the conversation to them!! PLEASE! No luck. :(<br />
<br />
<em>"Who is this guy you're dating"</em><br />
<em>"What's he do?"</em><br />
<em>"What's his name?" </em><br />
<em>"Where does he live?"</em><br />
<em>"How old is he?"</em><br />
<em>"How long has this been going on?"</em><br />
<em>"How long has he been divorced?"</em><br />
<em>"Does he have kids? grandkids?"</em><br />
<em>"When do you see him?"</em><br />
<br />
Finally, I find an opportunity to work in scheduling and plans AND change the subject. I tried to explain to her when she doesn't stick to the PLAN, it screws up MY plans. When I asked her if she understood and if we could stick to the arranged schedule from now on...her response was... <em>"Maybe, we'll see."</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Then she tells me not to do anything stupid. HUH!?<br />
<br />
Five minutes after I drop grandma off at her apartment she's calling my mom...<em>Did you know?!</em><br />
<br />
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
God help me and give me the strength to deal with the insanity!!<br />
AMEN!!<br />
<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-18733151641273207502013-03-16T10:29:00.001-05:002013-03-16T10:29:07.312-05:00BINGO!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04eNPXOOfbmNcUPsW2S2h993O2xdvhqNMOK-iGmbfdL02Xn1kfaA6n7DPZqRfGBrv0b2YEU6TRQSKySh2dqCF1Nbeg-bxizgCQXallz8QfKRvUakT2mZmyGbTi0rfzlk4XMTPZboqyGc/s1600/grandma18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi04eNPXOOfbmNcUPsW2S2h993O2xdvhqNMOK-iGmbfdL02Xn1kfaA6n7DPZqRfGBrv0b2YEU6TRQSKySh2dqCF1Nbeg-bxizgCQXallz8QfKRvUakT2mZmyGbTi0rfzlk4XMTPZboqyGc/s1600/grandma18.jpg" /></a>B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O</div>
and Bingo was her name oh!<br />
<br />
Grandma LOVES bingo. I used to take her to the bingo hall and pay $10-$25 a card (plus the little electronic bingo machines). She got into to it. We'd play all the different games: "T", "X", Four-corners; Frames; Blackout, etc. We never won the $500 pot but it was fun!<br />
<br />
Well guess what! They play bingo at grandma's new home!! YAY!!!!<br />
<br />
Grandma has it marked down on her calendar. <br />
<br />
Her first game of bingo was Tuesday. It costs $2 to play. High roller stakes!<br />
<br />
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When she got back to her apartment, she was not happy. <i>"I'm not going to play bingo here again. They play silly games and it cost $2 to play!"</i></div>
<br />
They played one game of Four-Corners, some regular bingo and I think a blackout.<br />
<br />
She came home with a pocketful of quarters.<br />
<br />
Wednesday and Thursday has come and gone...so has grandma's memory because on Friday, she was back down at the clubhouse playing PICTURE BINGO!<br />
<br />
Uh huh. Bingo.<br />
<br />
She's making friends. Playing bingo. <br />
<br />
Warp speed ahead!<br />
<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-62094434058575121512013-03-15T13:50:00.002-05:002013-03-15T13:50:29.849-05:00Earth to Grandma...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KRiahYvsrakOmfrdJYTDD9eDTe6CyHwgUUrabF2nnehXGSdMovK7C7j-yt7hUzk8DFy5hlFVxv8sd6ydCf-5Slu_OnI19Cd-gDjw7-nMDfD4dxrKR5OJPLlQa9awVXazPIgHzJhzv5E/s1600/grandma21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_KRiahYvsrakOmfrdJYTDD9eDTe6CyHwgUUrabF2nnehXGSdMovK7C7j-yt7hUzk8DFy5hlFVxv8sd6ydCf-5Slu_OnI19Cd-gDjw7-nMDfD4dxrKR5OJPLlQa9awVXazPIgHzJhzv5E/s320/grandma21.jpg" width="265" /></a>...come in grandma</div>
<br />
<em>Grandma's Log Stardate 0315.6</em><br />
Destination planet Happiness. Planet Happiness is difficult to reach. It's a LONG hard journey light years away from where we are today. Warp speed is not attainable. We are only able to achieve sub-warp -12. As we make headway toward Happiness, some days seem to lose ground as we get sucked backwards into the vortex, BUT. <br />
<br />
Yesterday, <em>But</em> was in control.<br />
<br />
Today, Happiness is possible.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, pictures were hung and plans were made. Plans for a maid, $35 hair cuts, grocery shopping, and lunch. <br />
<br />
Today, grandma forgot her handsome chauffeur was coming. He got there at the arranged 10:45. He waited and waited and waited. And then he waited some more. She finally showed up at 1:15. She was out and about. Grandma remembered to get her hair done and lunch but totally forgot her great-grandson was taking her shopping. Ooopsie!! <br />
<br />
No time to go shopping now. It's time for PICTURE BINGO!<br />
<br />
Now she wants him to come back later after picture bingo and take her out because she's LATE for picture bingo. <br />
<br />
BINGO!<br />
<br />
She's obviously is enjoying it there at her new home <strong><em>BUT</em> </strong>she'll never admit it. <br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-61686295142913870182013-03-14T17:34:00.000-05:002013-03-14T17:46:58.318-05:00Attitude Adjustment<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcliIscqJungybA7Z81p-mhz-svlWkz9juJkDys8VYvWbOLKp9IFvLSgWFAtZK2ySOU2n0Q0IeJZnBK1Z963WxqhQ4yQre0CZlWIDUhfhma56dlmCz_uEbUKoLk7qvQaWC9FRwkSlNKk/s1600/grandma17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcliIscqJungybA7Z81p-mhz-svlWkz9juJkDys8VYvWbOLKp9IFvLSgWFAtZK2ySOU2n0Q0IeJZnBK1Z963WxqhQ4yQre0CZlWIDUhfhma56dlmCz_uEbUKoLk7qvQaWC9FRwkSlNKk/s320/grandma17.jpg" width="320" /></a>Moving is an adjustment for anyone. Well...actually...for EVERYONE even remotely connected to the one who is physically changing addresses. ESPECIALLY when that person is elderly. </div>
<br />
OMG<br />
<br />
Grandma is getting adjusted. <br />
She needs an attitude adjustment. <br />
Everyone else needs a stiff drink.<br />
<br />
Just today alone, my mom received FOUR phone calls from grandmother before 10:00 a.m. The first was to tell her about a police chase on TV. The second and third were about her new dining room table being delivered and how they hung up on her (see...it was an <em><u>automated</u></em> call telling her they're on their way. <em>click</em>.) And the fourth was to complain about the cost of a hair cut. The complex has a beautician that comes weekly...it costs $35 to get Texan-styled big grandma hair delivered to her doorstep. <br />
<br />
<em>Bless your heart, grandma.</em><br />
<br />
The complex also has a program where lunch is delivered daily to the clubhouse. It's wonderful. It gets them out of their apartments to socialize and it makes sure they at least are eating one meal a day. Well...grandma thinks the food sucks. <em>"It's not my cup of tea."</em> She's had ONE meal there. It was pork chops in gravy. <em>"<u><strong>BUT</strong></u> the people were friendly."</em><br />
<br />
good.grief.<br />
<br />
Now her brand new couch that was delivered two days ago...she doesn't like the cushions. <br />
<br />
Grandma is knitpicking the place to death. It's a FABULOUS place! It's just not her old frame home with her car and her independence and friends that never came by to see her. <br />
<br />
It's an adjustment for EVERYONE.<br />
<br />
If she'd just give it a chance, she'd love it there. She hasn't come out and said she doesn't like it yet so there is still time to get your entry into grandma's pool. <br />
<br />
You could win something from the garage sale!whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-5412040494153088152013-03-13T10:16:00.001-05:002013-03-13T10:20:12.471-05:00But...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8w-fKACV9pyhV-SE6Uq4L0TlhWVcKQ4oEqg3EV7ECANLh4GHCEelVi7kYVcGLAkNQochU817f47Dk8pKk7U82R1q_QU1CMWVoPn_Ms1KGUGJSByKVpi3nRUjVMwd6gnD7SjW8w5ZIBOI/s1600/gmapartment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8w-fKACV9pyhV-SE6Uq4L0TlhWVcKQ4oEqg3EV7ECANLh4GHCEelVi7kYVcGLAkNQochU817f47Dk8pKk7U82R1q_QU1CMWVoPn_Ms1KGUGJSByKVpi3nRUjVMwd6gnD7SjW8w5ZIBOI/s320/gmapartment.jpg" width="240" /></a>Grandma is getting settled in her new home. It's looking great! It really is a cute little place. </div>
<br />
Pretty much all of the boxes have been unpacked. Now she just needs furniture. She's got a few odd chairs and card table she's been using. And she's made herself a pallet on the floor to watch TV on so she could sit next to Tomboy. ::shaking head and rolling eyes::<br />
<br />
A new couch was delivered yesterday so on the way home I stopped by to see her and the couch. When I got there she had her <strong><u><em>butt</em></u></strong> firmly planted in "her" corner of the couch with the remote in her hand watching Wheel of Fortune. She's also got a clear view of all the happenings outside in the courtyard. Life is good.<br />
<br />
I tried to talk with her <strong><u><em>BUT</em></u></strong> it was difficult because her phone kept ringing and she kept reading the caller ID on her TV. Yes. Her caller ID pops up on her TV screen. <em>I don't have that!</em> <br />
<br />
When I was finally able to get a question in here and there she was SOOOOO non-committal. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m:</span></strong> This is a pretty nice place you got here. How are you liking it?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g:</span></strong><em> It's okay <strong><u>BUT</u></strong> it's not my old home.</em> <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m:</span></strong> It's warmer. Doesn't feel as drafty. Are you comfortable?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g:</span></strong> <em>It's newer <strong><u>BUT</u></strong> the floors are cold.</em><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m:</span></strong> It seems to be pretty well insulated. I don't hear many noises. Has it been quiet?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g:</span></strong> <em>Yes <u><strong>BUT</strong> </u>when I stand at the door I hear people coming and going.</em> <br />
<br />
HUH!? You're standing at the door watching and listening? You're gonna HEAR things!!! <br />
<br />
She will never say anything nice about this place. She will ALWAYS find something negative. It is so much nicer than where she was. Probably nicer than any place she's ever lived. <br />
<br />
<strong><u><em>BUT</em></u></strong> this is grandma. Compliments and positive comments don't gush from her often...if ever. <br />
<br />
I understand that change is difficult especially at 95 years old <strong><u><em>BUT</em></u></strong> she better shape up fast before she gets a swift kick in the <strong><u><em>BUTT</em></u></strong>!!whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-20934648003371906032013-03-11T11:45:00.002-05:002013-03-11T16:24:27.895-05:00Hallelujah!! It's Done! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LFrqjcy230-ae0ejgDS-l44nidoxIXIQDWA3Mebga9HkdzUVDI-0BbJyWvYPvwhe38LaYxkutv60raIgfMQO7YmjpphTlW9MZ1JMRS-G6ZQxV9_D-kzjoPDKTqk0VOscin1fwo9anKQ/s1600/grandma13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LFrqjcy230-ae0ejgDS-l44nidoxIXIQDWA3Mebga9HkdzUVDI-0BbJyWvYPvwhe38LaYxkutv60raIgfMQO7YmjpphTlW9MZ1JMRS-G6ZQxV9_D-kzjoPDKTqk0VOscin1fwo9anKQ/s320/grandma13.jpg" width="320" /></a>It's done. </div>
<br />
Grandma is moved.<br />
<br />
It was a LONG fourteen-hour-day by the time it was said and done with. But she is moved.<br />
<br />
Getting her out of the house was fun...NOT! She was worried about Tomboy. She kept trying to clean. Then she'd get sidetracked looking at old stuff and remembering. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDehslQuhshtnDXKGoN-HwP5MuWZSjye1LoL5ArscW6o98R3oz3ltF5mEBj7C-uaBFe4dcY9iQ-kVnuNMv0lvSO2YDixRhOoFyHAfwERE3FfPXPz0-g_rNWomewSPmaXeHRFsL1Us5dW8/s1600/grandma15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDehslQuhshtnDXKGoN-HwP5MuWZSjye1LoL5ArscW6o98R3oz3ltF5mEBj7C-uaBFe4dcY9iQ-kVnuNMv0lvSO2YDixRhOoFyHAfwERE3FfPXPz0-g_rNWomewSPmaXeHRFsL1Us5dW8/s320/grandma15.jpg" width="320" /></a>The movers got lost on their way to Houston. HOW, I don't know...they had GPS. They left at noon for a three-hour-drive and got there five hours later. </div>
<br />
My son and I got the apartment ready...cleaned and shelf paper down...before she got there. Even hung a huge "WELCOME" sign inside and on the front door.<br />
<br />
Grandma's first reaction was good. She was pleased with her new home. Wasn't happy with the gorgeous new hardwood floors. It's a REALLY cute place. LOTS of room. She should feel right at home. It's like a small town atmosphere there...a bunch of nosy neighbors! LOL People sat on their balconies watching the truck get unloaded. People walked back and forth on the sidewalk trying to get a glimpse inside the windows at the "fresh meat." The REALLY brave people came right on in the open front door to introduce themselves. And grandma thought she wasn't going to need a cake pan to cook anything. Yep. She's going to have company! LOL<br />
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Between unpacking boxes and pop-in visitors, grandma chased Tomboy and distracted herself with stuff she found in boxes. It was like Christmas! She'd find something she forgot she packed and would get sidetracked. Merry Christmas, Grandma!</div>
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I started a pool to guess how long until she says she hates it. We're into day two now without any complaints except the hardwood floors and light coming into her bedroom at night. She's looking really hard for something and can't find it yet.</div>
<br />
Everyone is exhausted now. I've got tons of stories to share. And then a bunch of new ones as grandma begins her new adventure continues into the next phase.<br />
<br />
But finally, the move is over!<br />
<br />
OH! How could I forget!?!? She had THREE boxes of Magnum ice cream bars left before the move. They all survived!! Still frozen. It was the first thing she asked me when I saw her... "<em>Did you bring the Mangum ice cream bars?!"</em><br />
<br />
I know what I'm getting her for Mother's Day, Christmas and every other holiday in between. Magnum ice cream bars!!whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-85874885706878414952013-03-08T13:14:00.002-06:002013-03-08T13:14:24.339-06:00A Week of Farewells<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepF4uhY6DW5rUtlpSCCyaQasoqiUjx3J7MFf608S6MgXZx1DlIkWXHIDspGT0VNYnlXruIIekbkDefeWNE_FSdU6i3yzEcrfI2VqF6uOcqrh6jp6Ba_XrbgZuZmbDzTcGwBYLT9z0Ias/s1600/grandma12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjepF4uhY6DW5rUtlpSCCyaQasoqiUjx3J7MFf608S6MgXZx1DlIkWXHIDspGT0VNYnlXruIIekbkDefeWNE_FSdU6i3yzEcrfI2VqF6uOcqrh6jp6Ba_XrbgZuZmbDzTcGwBYLT9z0Ias/s320/grandma12.jpg" width="320" /></a>So it's the Friday before the big move. Grandma's last day in her house and her home town. It's sad.</div>
<br />
People have been taking her to lunch and dinner all week. <br />
<br />
Monday she visited with her cousin. They could pass for sisters. Cousin kept saying <em>"this is the last time I'll get to see you. We'll be dead next time."</em> HELLO!? It's not like she's moving to Tibet. You'll still be in touch. Grandma will come to the reunions. We're not locking her in a padded room (<em>as much as we would like to</em>) for no one to ever see again. What has this woman been telling everyone?! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHU9jH2jnM-1uPWULJmV8K9G1EQFMlcNSp4ftn1ZsMaUG02ms-pwAb7dWvmEEmRCEjeJLd7eniOo8Ni1VMpz-xH1UnJhkl4ihMEzFMZs5LDzaVGjW8hhkkvCL6kLLBEYWV9zqAXZIrdkQ/s1600/gmcm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHU9jH2jnM-1uPWULJmV8K9G1EQFMlcNSp4ftn1ZsMaUG02ms-pwAb7dWvmEEmRCEjeJLd7eniOo8Ni1VMpz-xH1UnJhkl4ihMEzFMZs5LDzaVGjW8hhkkvCL6kLLBEYWV9zqAXZIrdkQ/s320/gmcm.jpg" width="320" /></a>Tuesday and Thursday friends came and took her out to lunch. <em>"We had such a lovely time. Everyone is going to miss me so much. They want me to come back and visit."</em> Where were these friends when she was home, alone, needing company? Where were these friends when she had nothing to do? Why didn't these friends call to check on her weekly? What are we...chopped pimento loaf?</div>
<br />
<a href="http://boxingupgrandma.blogspot.com/2013/03/bless-her-heart.html" target="_blank">Wednesday</a>...she had us. Personally, I think it was the highlight of her week. How can you beat liquor stores and fried food? We're such fun company. <br />
<br />
And Friday...She's not going to get anything done. Auntie M and her bunch are coming to visit. They'll be there ALL day. I hope they make themselves useful and pack a few boxes!! LOL They'll sit around and moan and gritch about how horrible we were to tell grandma she needed to move closer to family and doctors. I'm feeling the love right now. Good vibrations. <br />
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Tomorrow. O.M.G. I'm dreading it. Two things to do. 1) Start a pool to see how long for her to say she hates it at her new home; and, 2) Start a drinking game for every time grandma says she will be missed or she will miss it. We should be smashed by lunchtime. </div>
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I get it. Change sucks. But change happens and for the better. She's set in her ways but we need to be able to take care of her better so she can live to 100. She has to move. </div>
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She'll be the belle of the ball at her new home. Men will be knocking down her door. Fresh meat! Grandma won't know what to do with herself. :)</div>
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I'm going back by the liquor store for full boxes of Crown.</div>
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whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-21788694535984787702013-03-07T15:11:00.000-06:002013-03-07T15:19:36.483-06:00Bless Her Heart<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EO2ah6JeWq4VqCktTk5KRu75Tcb7najRwOEBSiUyKzodDNvo6TMSIFlO1nPExObwzVfGOeSTATiF6xbZi5wbm0GMsR3PoTU8KvNKbv-Bo1z1OaqnifZfj7LdG-P2PDuNRhL-lxLv8A4/s1600/boxesgaloreb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4EO2ah6JeWq4VqCktTk5KRu75Tcb7najRwOEBSiUyKzodDNvo6TMSIFlO1nPExObwzVfGOeSTATiF6xbZi5wbm0GMsR3PoTU8KvNKbv-Bo1z1OaqnifZfj7LdG-P2PDuNRhL-lxLv8A4/s320/boxesgaloreb.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you find grandma?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Y'all know we're from the South. Generations of strong southern women. Independent. Opinionated. Polite. My mom always said not to be rude; if you can't say anything nice – don't say anything at all; and, there's a way to tell someone "to go to hell" so that they are looking forward to the trip. I heart my mom. <br />
<br />
A couple of those phrases, we southern women like to say is "<em>bless your heart</em>" or "<em>isn't that nice</em>." It's a way to soften the blow when you're speaking ill of someone and not be rude. well... sort of anyway. :P<br />
<br />
<em>Well, bless grandma's pea-picking heart!</em><br />
<br />
I loaded up the car yesterday with my mom, son and the <a href="http://pug-tales.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">pug </a>for a roadtrip to grandma's. We wanted to make sure everything was ready for the movers when they come on Saturday. Thank God we did!<br />
<br />
Everything she said that was done...hadn't been done. Everything should have been packed up by now. She still had empty boxes from our last trip. The kitchen. The bedroom. The bathroom. The living room. It all still needed boxing up. There's not that much stuff. All she had to do was a couple of boxes a day. <br />
<br />
<em>Bless her heart.</em><br />
<br />
So we went into tornado mode. Started boxing up everything until we ran out of boxes. <br />
<br />
Time for lunch! More fried diner food. Then to hunt for boxes in a small Texas town. This town has 1,100 people on a Saturday. No red lights. One grocery story. One dollar store. Two gas stations. THREE liquor stores. I know where their priorities are! Please let there be boxes in town!<br />
<br />
We hit the motherload!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXja5IZxM-aZb2z4fiKjGwteAtFbXbWK0uoer_aDI-hQtS4RQaoeMY8Dq4DctxyS1FpdYvEzlWz8a9ISKggocQ_7Gkgg6qXiONt56K2bnOUcpwaJ1IWMPoLFDRS1DblmfMmOSwE9rLPo/s1600/IMG_3501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXja5IZxM-aZb2z4fiKjGwteAtFbXbWK0uoer_aDI-hQtS4RQaoeMY8Dq4DctxyS1FpdYvEzlWz8a9ISKggocQ_7Gkgg6qXiONt56K2bnOUcpwaJ1IWMPoLFDRS1DblmfMmOSwE9rLPo/s320/IMG_3501.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that really is his tongue.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Stopped at the first liquor store on the way back to grandma's...they had boxes and I had a car full of people and a fat pug. I was able to get 18 good liquor boxes and four full and "happy" people and one fat pug into my Kia Sportage...WITH room to spare. I just wish there was a bottle of Crown left in one of those boxes! Then we had to open the car door and unload. LOL<br />
<br />
We packed up all those boxes with her stuff and need more. Go figure! So grandmother and I headed to the other liquor stores. She hated it. Someone is going to see her there. WHOOPIE!!!!<br />
<br />
We hit the jackpot again at the drive-thru liquor store. :) I love drive-thrus. But this time grandma got out of the car! She knew the owners. HUH? As I loaded up the car with another 20 boxes (and looking for another bottle of Crown) she started talking to the owners telling them how it wasn't her choice to move and how she'll be driving after she gets situated. Oh hell no!!!! Then she proceeded to talk bad about her family. HELLO! I'm standing right here!!<br />
<br />
<em>Bless her heart</em>. Love you to, grandma.<br />
<br />
We get back to the house and grandma has had enough. She grabs one of the multitude of Magnum ice cream bars and sits down in front of the TV. We pack her up. The whole time she's shouting about her GARAGE SALE and not missing a drop of ice cream. How much should she ask for this? for that? Please, sell me!!<br />
<br />
This was Wednesday. She moves Saturday. There's still her storage shed to go through. It ain't all gonna get done. I see another roadtrip in our future after the move.<br />
<br />
<em>Isn't that nice?!</em><br />
<br />
I think I'll hit the liquor store for FULL box of anything to numb the pain of this adventure.<br />
<br />
<em>Bless MY heart!</em>whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-54270463678196587672013-03-05T14:48:00.002-06:002013-03-05T14:54:17.384-06:00Save the Ice Cream!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbapn1RHVI7reJNzcmAIUc4iix74zJx2hR99wNNSmy_sjzs31wYkHj5LG2UUf8qHfvTgWRvJFvknEQUTjwkmU4E1b4aE5sLinX6vKjoeGL93oiCqsICyah6v-ua9w3UsiaUWVUhwPcg74/s1600/Refrigerator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbapn1RHVI7reJNzcmAIUc4iix74zJx2hR99wNNSmy_sjzs31wYkHj5LG2UUf8qHfvTgWRvJFvknEQUTjwkmU4E1b4aE5sLinX6vKjoeGL93oiCqsICyah6v-ua9w3UsiaUWVUhwPcg74/s1600/Refrigerator.jpg" /></a>I just don't get it. Maybe it's an old school kind of raising. But dang! This is nuts!!</div>
<br />
Grandma has a freezer. The freezer is coming to my house. The freezer is full of Mangum ice cream bars, shelled pecans (<em>puh'-cons – we're in Texas, remember?</em>) and some other stuff. <br />
<br />
Grandma got a wild hair yesterday. I know...this is not unusual. She decided to start throwing stuff away out of the freezer.<br />
<br />
You ready for this?<br />
<br />
Instead of putting the stuff she is getting rid of into a trash can, she tossed it on the ground to thaw. That's right. You read that correctly. She put the frozen stuff she's throwing away on the ground to thaw. <br />
<br />
???<br />
(O.O)<br />
<br />
WTH<br />
<br />
After it thaws, she'll toss it into the trash can.<br />
<br />
???<br />
(O.O)<br />
<br />
WHY?<br />
<br />
Why not put it in the trash can to begin with?!?!? Save yourself the extra work of picking it UP off the ground where it is now an ushy, gushy, mushy, yucky, thawed, nasty mess covered in dirt and probably ANTS (<em>this is Texas</em>) and germs and put it DIRECTLY INTO the trash can the FIRST time!<br />
<br />
good.grief.<br />
<br />
Her reasoning is because it's frozen and heavier and harder to handle and there will be water in the bottom of the trash can. <br />
<br />
SO!!!!<br />
<br />
Think of the all the varmints feasting on smorgasbord out in the yard.<br />
Think of the mess the varmints will leave.<br />
<br />
I ain't cleaning it up!<br />
<br />
When I'm 95, I'm going to do crazy crap like this. My son is going to ask me "WHY?!" and I'm going to tell him my grandmother taught me how.<br />
<br />
If this keeps up, I might get an early start.<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-65012681635666651172013-03-04T12:15:00.000-06:002013-03-04T15:55:10.377-06:00Grandma's Obsession<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboFo-dDZUyoc-PaTAJiHLPy4G9NGgEh8tl3_eHm-iEHKzb3Lit7lYZU4fAYFSS3-C2720DOCr8gJ7KZccgzCUvhWvEbsSa7PiDvfITW31QhyphenhyphenkCv2QHo-St22bd9NJpzMCw16yN0ZyJqA/s1600/grandma-tomboyb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboFo-dDZUyoc-PaTAJiHLPy4G9NGgEh8tl3_eHm-iEHKzb3Lit7lYZU4fAYFSS3-C2720DOCr8gJ7KZccgzCUvhWvEbsSa7PiDvfITW31QhyphenhyphenkCv2QHo-St22bd9NJpzMCw16yN0ZyJqA/s320/grandma-tomboyb.jpg" width="240" /></a>Grandma has a cat named Tomboy. Tomboy started out as a stray that she adopted. (That in itself is a miracle.) There's lots of strays out in the country.</div>
<br />
Grandma obsesses about Tomboy. Where is he? He's hungry. He wants outside. He wants inside. Where is he? He's hungry. He's always in my lap. He attacks my feet. Where is he? He's hungry. He's sleeping. He's awake. He's hungry. Where is he?<br />
<br />
Get the picture? <br />
<br />
He's a good and patient cat. Grandma? Not so much.<br />
<br />
Tomboy loves on her and plays with her house shoes when she's sitting down. <i>He's playful, Grandma. He is not attacking you. </i><br />
<br />
She spoils him. Feeds him ALL the time. He comes in...she feeds him. He goes out...she feeds him. He goes to sleep...she feeds him. He potties...she feeds him.<br />
<br />
This cat should be the size of a barn.<br />
<br />
When she goes to <i>The Boat</i>, grandma boards Tomboy at the vet. He always gets the corner "room" with his blanket, toy and TONS of food. He gets the spa treatment while there with a pet-icure. He is always thrilled to see her when she gets home and just loves all over her.<br />
<br />
They're a good match.<br />
<br />
Now she's moving and suddenly he is too expensive to keep. Her apartment has a $10/month pet charge. That's all?!?<br />
<br />
She spends all that money on boarding him and his food and more food and even more food but she won't spend $10 a month to keep Tomboy? She probably spends $30+ on food alone for him. JUST ONE CAT! I have two cats and I spend that. Maybe I'm not feeding mine enough. But wait...they're fat and happy.<br />
<br />
I swear.<br />
<br />
I know grandma will keep him. She's fussed before about spending money on him when he got sick but she did it anyway. She'd be lost without Tomboy. They're good together.<br />
<br />
What would she do all day with nothing to obsess about and feed constantly? At least this way we know she's up and moving around...obsessing and chasing after Tomboy.<br />
<br />
<br />whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-29176758032281308602013-02-28T10:44:00.002-06:002013-02-28T10:44:56.440-06:00Save Your Quarter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_cLKLv6wDEMBw3IpthpP-j0XKLQMtT5yQotdEYeKAXZOpfDw8AfzS64x73BvUMB4HDnpndkXE4dxKWSIERyfj8cli81IpNTW4cs-OTeudHuCGHLKQpBvTINASdMUwJbp-AEr4f9knTs/s1600/grandma08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8_cLKLv6wDEMBw3IpthpP-j0XKLQMtT5yQotdEYeKAXZOpfDw8AfzS64x73BvUMB4HDnpndkXE4dxKWSIERyfj8cli81IpNTW4cs-OTeudHuCGHLKQpBvTINASdMUwJbp-AEr4f9knTs/s320/grandma08.jpg" width="263" /></a>I called grandma last night. Wanted to let her know that I had dropped the new address cards I made for her to give to her friends in the mail. The cards have all her new information on them. </div>
<br />
The conversation started out good. She was very thankful I had made them for her – saved her from writing it down thousands of times. <br />
<br />
Then I made the mistake of asking how she was doing. <br />
<br />
When will I ever learn.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: How you doing?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>My house is a mess. There's boxes everywhere. It's just a mess.</em> <br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: It will be nice to be in a new home with central air and heat and a dishwasher.<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>I don't know. Central heat is good when it's on but when it's off...it gets cold.</em> <br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: But your home won't be exposed to the elements like you are now in the middle of the field. You'll be protected on four sides. Much warmer.<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>Well, they better not be noisy! I'll scream at them if they are.</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: It won't be a problem. They might scream at you with your wild parties and loud TV.<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>I don't have the TV loud.</em><br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: What did you say, grandmother? I couldn't hear you for the TV.<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>I'm not going to unpack all my boxes.</em> <br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: Why are you not going to unpack your boxes? <br />
<br />
I should have know better.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>Because I might not like it here.</em> <br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: What? Don't you want to be close to us...your family?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: [crickets]<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: Grandmother? Where would you go?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>I'll move back here. They're all going to miss me. I'm going to miss them more. [Landlords] said they'll never have a good renter like me again. They'll take me back. Besides, I'm going to be all cooped up. Not able to go anywhere and do things.</em><br />
<br />
BINGO! She's starting to regret to the move. <br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: What do you do now? Do you get out of the house or watch your shows all day?<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>I go to the store. I can drive. I think might try driving there. I can do it.</em><br />
<br />
OH GOD NO!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: It will be fine. You've got us. There's things to do there. You're favorite great-grandson would love to drive you around. <em>(Little does he know.)</em> You'll make lots of new friends. Maybe even find you a man!<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: <em>Who wants that stuff!? I don't have time for a man.</em><br />
<br />
But you said you're going to be all cooped up with nothing to do?!?!?!? <br />
I give up.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: orange;">m</span></strong>: Well watch for the delivery truck tomorrow afternoon. I hope you like your move cards. I need to go relax and get ready for bed [<em>and pour myself a stiff Crown and Coke</em>].<br />
<strong><span style="color: magenta;">g</span></strong>: Thanks again. Don't work too hard. <br />
<br />
Word of advice: Save your quarter; send snail mail instead. Save yourself the hangover.<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-70717736133135958902013-02-27T11:26:00.001-06:002013-02-27T11:29:40.473-06:00I Like Being an Only Child<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-MZmoGlJo6ff0LrOHL20-4Zyw7jjbX_c11yUskg8d47gKsHgxL3VXOZb8NB4hLuMZFUvtu03NXMqoIVk0u4FS2E7IgejSyf6XFKvLP_iAgleKI0F7qcF-EYxXiDxsQxzNy_hipyohU0/s1600/grandma01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-MZmoGlJo6ff0LrOHL20-4Zyw7jjbX_c11yUskg8d47gKsHgxL3VXOZb8NB4hLuMZFUvtu03NXMqoIVk0u4FS2E7IgejSyf6XFKvLP_iAgleKI0F7qcF-EYxXiDxsQxzNy_hipyohU0/s320/grandma01.jpg" width="320" /></a><em>Sisters...sisters<br />There were never such devoted sisters,</em><em>Never had to have a chaperone, no sir,<br />I'm there to keep my eye on her...</em></div>
<br />
Remember that Irving Berlin song? I always love watching Bing Cosby and Danny Kaye perform that in <em>White Christmas</em>.<br />
<br />
Grandma has a younger sister (Auntie M). They both have had wonderful and interesting husbands that spoiled them. But then their husbands definitely had their hands full! <br />
<br />
Auntie M has a large family scattered across Texas that she loves to visit. Grandma likes to tag along...especially on those trips to <em>"The Boat"</em>.<em> (I won't go into that she rather visit with them than with her OWN family.)</em> The two sisters will stay up all night dancing with the one-armed-bandit. No one ever knows just how much they win. They always come back tighter lipped than they went. What happens at <em>The Boat</em>; stays at <em>The Boat</em>!<br />
<br />
Now the two sisters are on their own. Heaven help us!! I'll send out a APB next time they head out.<br />
<br />
About a month ago Auntie M's second husband died. Auntie M thinks she can't stay by herself. She's never stayed by herself her whole life! She calls grandma all the time complaining. <br />
<br />
Grandma got tired of her gritching. She told Auntie M, "...<em>Lots of people live alone; that [she's] been living alone for years! Give over it!!</em>" <br />
<br />
Auntie M got mad and told grandma, "<em>You're bossy!!</em>"<br />
<br />
/snort!!!!!!<br />
<br />
Grandma got all offended. She's NOT bossy!!! No, not at all!! <br />
<br />
I think the word I would use is ... demanding.<br />
<br />
Thank goodness the two sisters are not moving in together. I don't think any of us could handle it. <br />
<br />
Grandma has always told the story when they were growing up how Auntie M would always disappear to the outhouse when it came time for chores. When it was Auntie M's turn to do the dishes, she would hide in the outhouse. <br />
<br />
I think I would be tipping over an outhouse by the third time she'd hid in there.<br />
<br />
Just imagine if they lived together. Grandma would be bossing Auntie M. Auntie M would be looking for a place to hide. We would be getting calls all the time from the bickering sisters. <br />
<br />
<em>"Auntie M ate one of my Magnum ice cream bars!" </em><br />
<em>"Your grandma won't share!"</em><br />
<br />
Maybe it's time to unlist my phone number.<br />
Maybe I'll go hide in the outhouse...out of state!<br />
whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6741732712508835683.post-12245192285618205482013-02-26T16:56:00.000-06:002013-02-26T16:57:07.081-06:00No Rush<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxb-KXSdpbQT-gwwr7ydN4vvVMRQuKYVSkzC87XMUCrueKzHLejvaGfbx9LyLy6pNnvGVD_adwKJjoqRPjxGtgb4GcFHoU06JXs0clFUAs-OnKwc09mwghFfe6qdt2J-poqC7SOUmYtw/s1600/grandma03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxb-KXSdpbQT-gwwr7ydN4vvVMRQuKYVSkzC87XMUCrueKzHLejvaGfbx9LyLy6pNnvGVD_adwKJjoqRPjxGtgb4GcFHoU06JXs0clFUAs-OnKwc09mwghFfe6qdt2J-poqC7SOUmYtw/s1600/grandma03.jpg" /></a></div>
Who lit a fire in your shorts?<br />
<br />
Grandma is on a mission. A mission to be living out of boxes and sleeping and eating on the floor BEFORE she moves. Why can she not listen?!<br />
<br />
You remember, grandma is going to have a GARAGE SALE. Gonna sell all her stuff! Seems grandma can't wait for her own garage sale and is selling her things that she still needs BEFORE she moves. WHY!? Leave something for your GARAGE SALE!<br />
<br />
::head desk::<br />
<br />
Her dining room chairs. Gone.<br />
<br />
Her love seat. Gone.<br />
<br />
Her spare bed. Gone.<br />
<br />
Half her linens. Gone.<br />
<br />
She has sold her washing machine and dryer and refrigerator. Luckily, the man buying it told her she can keep them until she moves. How generous!! I'm sure grandma told him it would be fine if he took it then. <br />
<br />
Now she has boxed up her dishes and her towels. WHY!?<br />
It's two weeks until she moves. Don't you think she'll eat or bathe sometime before then? I hope so!<br />
<br />
Who needs plates when she's got a freezer full of Magnum ice cream bars?<br />
<br />
I have this visual of grandma sitting on the floor by her chairless kitchen table eating her ice cream. <br />
<br />
She did tell us she ate two ice cream bars today. Only 28 bars to go.whimzeenatorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07213529624865211437noreply@blogger.com1