A gentle snow fell on our farmette lands, covering all that was messy and trampled down, confirming once again the beauty of a winter in Wisconsin.
My morning walk to feed the animals is short but oh so sweet!
(all, waiting for breakfast)
Ed would have preferred to sleep in (and by that, I mean way past a decent morning hour). An evening of volley ball followed by a night of reading wipes him out. But, I shouted up to him that it's now or never. Breakfast is ready and I'm going to eat it. I have a full morning before me!
He comes down. The sweet thing about the guy is that he always opts in for breakfast.
Despite the snow, the rural roads are drivable. This is good, because I have two more assisted living places to visit. Perhaps you remember that I'm looking for a place for my mom and I toured one in Verona two days ago. I liked it. (In these searches, you have to force yourself to ignore the reviews. I've been warned about that: someone has a bad experience with the food or with an attendant and ten relatives write scathing comments. It's very rare that satisfied customers go to the trouble of posting remarks. So personal inspection is essential.)
Last night, I found two more places that could potentially offer housing for her. The first one is in Oregon -- another suburb of Madison. I really wanted to love this place, not only because it's ten minutes up the road from where we live, but, too, because it's close to downtown Oregon (library, park, even a swimming pool).
So maybe I'm influenced by the pretty snow, or maybe the place brings forth memories of winter weekends in New England (in the years I lived in New York), because it does look to me like one of those older residential buildings straight out of Vermont. And there the prettiness ends. It's drab inside. Needs a face lift. Sort of like the motel that once may have been pretty, but age has done nothing kind to it. Ed later tells me that he expected as much. The older assisted living homes do not have the money for any major facelift and these structures just do not age well. So if you were on a road trip, wouldn't you choose the newer motel, rather than that old drive up place where the air conditioning rattles and the bathroom sink shows decades of use?
I suppose it's all in what you need. This small place (with terrible views -- which to me would be a deal breaker right there!) offers a level of coziness and care that my mom would not like but someone else might relish. It does appear to have a very dedicated staff. Still, it would be a real step down for her. (Even though she has been living in a very uninspired downtown building, her apartment is clean and fresh. Or at least it was clean and fresh before Ed and I tore it apart.) She has had enough steps down in the recent months. She doesn't need another one.
At around noon, I visit the last place on my list. This one is in Fitchburg -- another suburb of Madison. This one is also close to me, though I honestly don't view that as a benefit or liability. I drive up to a decent enough building. But again, once inside, I am disappointed. The rooms are tiny. No kitchenette, not even a refrigerator. Older people, yes, of course (one woman beats my mother at 98!), but also an older interior. And a little too intimate. One big happy family, unless you don't like each other -- then not so happy.
I am so glad that the first place I visited was pleasant, or else I'd think we were in for sad times ahead.
From the assisted living property, I drive past the lesser lake (frozen, with ice fisher-people) to pick up the kids at school.
Happy kids...
Busy kids... ("can I finish this project?")
At the farmette, I bring out the sled. I mean, if not today, then when? Snowdrop reassures her doubting brother. He relaxes. He's thrilled!
Inside, we yet again go back to the book making project.
But not only. We play ball. We do puzzles. And we read. How I love books for kids! They have just the right amount of child impishness and adventure in them to make a reading time come alive. On a winter afternoon, they are like a warm quilt for the soul.
Evening. Ed and I read through the documents posted about my mom's benefit eligibility. We have a number of questions. That's a task for tomorrow morning. Early. Because by 10 am, I will be on the bus to Chicago.
My morning walk to feed the animals is short but oh so sweet!
(all, waiting for breakfast)
Ed would have preferred to sleep in (and by that, I mean way past a decent morning hour). An evening of volley ball followed by a night of reading wipes him out. But, I shouted up to him that it's now or never. Breakfast is ready and I'm going to eat it. I have a full morning before me!
He comes down. The sweet thing about the guy is that he always opts in for breakfast.
Despite the snow, the rural roads are drivable. This is good, because I have two more assisted living places to visit. Perhaps you remember that I'm looking for a place for my mom and I toured one in Verona two days ago. I liked it. (In these searches, you have to force yourself to ignore the reviews. I've been warned about that: someone has a bad experience with the food or with an attendant and ten relatives write scathing comments. It's very rare that satisfied customers go to the trouble of posting remarks. So personal inspection is essential.)
Last night, I found two more places that could potentially offer housing for her. The first one is in Oregon -- another suburb of Madison. I really wanted to love this place, not only because it's ten minutes up the road from where we live, but, too, because it's close to downtown Oregon (library, park, even a swimming pool).
So maybe I'm influenced by the pretty snow, or maybe the place brings forth memories of winter weekends in New England (in the years I lived in New York), because it does look to me like one of those older residential buildings straight out of Vermont. And there the prettiness ends. It's drab inside. Needs a face lift. Sort of like the motel that once may have been pretty, but age has done nothing kind to it. Ed later tells me that he expected as much. The older assisted living homes do not have the money for any major facelift and these structures just do not age well. So if you were on a road trip, wouldn't you choose the newer motel, rather than that old drive up place where the air conditioning rattles and the bathroom sink shows decades of use?
I suppose it's all in what you need. This small place (with terrible views -- which to me would be a deal breaker right there!) offers a level of coziness and care that my mom would not like but someone else might relish. It does appear to have a very dedicated staff. Still, it would be a real step down for her. (Even though she has been living in a very uninspired downtown building, her apartment is clean and fresh. Or at least it was clean and fresh before Ed and I tore it apart.) She has had enough steps down in the recent months. She doesn't need another one.
At around noon, I visit the last place on my list. This one is in Fitchburg -- another suburb of Madison. This one is also close to me, though I honestly don't view that as a benefit or liability. I drive up to a decent enough building. But again, once inside, I am disappointed. The rooms are tiny. No kitchenette, not even a refrigerator. Older people, yes, of course (one woman beats my mother at 98!), but also an older interior. And a little too intimate. One big happy family, unless you don't like each other -- then not so happy.
I am so glad that the first place I visited was pleasant, or else I'd think we were in for sad times ahead.
From the assisted living property, I drive past the lesser lake (frozen, with ice fisher-people) to pick up the kids at school.
Happy kids...
Busy kids... ("can I finish this project?")
At the farmette, I bring out the sled. I mean, if not today, then when? Snowdrop reassures her doubting brother. He relaxes. He's thrilled!
Inside, we yet again go back to the book making project.
But not only. We play ball. We do puzzles. And we read. How I love books for kids! They have just the right amount of child impishness and adventure in them to make a reading time come alive. On a winter afternoon, they are like a warm quilt for the soul.
Evening. Ed and I read through the documents posted about my mom's benefit eligibility. We have a number of questions. That's a task for tomorrow morning. Early. Because by 10 am, I will be on the bus to Chicago.
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