Seriously. AND I took the drain thingy off in the shower and fished out almost as much gunk. Where does all of this stuff COME from? Tomorrow, all the clothes and linens I washed, dried, hung/folded go upstairs. All the wood gets another dose of oil and I tackle the office. I already got Ben to agree to tote books upstairs to the library for me. I am sure he has NO IDEA how many trips we are talking about.
We to see my mother today….she is old and frail and had informed me (well, via my sister) that she was moving out at the end of February. So here it is almost moving out time and she wants to wait until March or maybe April. She can barely care for herself but the thought of moving to a nursing home is most upsetting to her. (We have had several dramatic talks about this, all ending with her crying, throwing her hands up in the air and sobbing ” I have nothing! Nothing!”)
So Darling talked her into staying until May–he will find someone to come in and stay with her during the day and do light housekeeping and cooking. She was so relieved. There is a nice senior living place here that she has already tried (she hated it) and the idea of going to a nursing home and not even having her own personal bed just un-nerves her. She keeps saying that she wants to die, so we had to take away her gun. My Da did the same thing. What the heck is wrong with these people? I am beginning to think that they found ME on the side of the road, because I know for sure I.DO.NOT. ACT. LIKE. THIS.
Then Ben, Darling and I tried to talk her into giving up driving.
Honestly, she is not safe on the road. She got all het up and huffy over THAT. I told her I was going to call the DMV and she got so furious that she said she would never speak to me again.
Too late. Both my parents have NSTMA numerous times and it never killed me. I wish I had a nickle for every time they threatened to NSTMA. I’d be so rich that the Rockerfeller’s would want to borrow cab fare. My Da wouldn’t speak to me once for seven years, then when he did, he didn’t know who the heck I was. He thought I was Wendy Jones’ wife, Marie.
So I am not all that impressed with this not speaking nonsense. If the house was on fire, she’d speak to me.
We bought a house across the street from the grocery store so she WOULDN’T HAVE to drive; Ben LIVES with her so he can run these little errands for her….oh, but once a year, she has to go to the bank and she doesn’t want anyone to know her business.
See what I have to look forward to?
Complete and utter howl-at-the-moon lunacy.
She is furious because my sister (Judy the beautiful) is on a cruise and didn’t get permission. Judy is 53 years old.
She has four grandchildren.
She has four ADULT children.
And I can tell you, at 53? James and Inez weren’t asking permission from anyone for anything.
I can see lunacy on the horizon, waiting for me like a big fat toad. Hopefully, in FORTY years they’ll have some kind of drug for it because I refuse to carry on like this.
Actually, my children wouldn’t stay in the same room long enough for me to go all old-lady-crazy and without an audience, what would be the point? And my brother Clark and best- friend -since- I- was- 13 Marji would knock me upside the head and then where would I be?
Alone, crazy, with a headache.