This morning I tell Ed that I slept really well! Nothing like a long hike to put you into deep sleep at night.
You had a nightmare -- he responds.
I did? I don't remember.
You thanked me for waking you.
I must have "slept" through that whole episode as well!
I wish we hiked energetically every day, but I know that this is not realistic. Eking out a 25 minute walk is challenging enough! Fact is, I would like to do four things every day: hike, review a modest amount of French, do wholesome yoga stretches, and write (I'll count Ocean for this). Reality is that I only seem to be able to guarantee the latter -- writing. The others -- well, I'm trying.
But I never skip posting on Ocean.
Which brings me to another point: yesterday, Ocean turned a sweet 16. Meaning, I began writing here when I was just fifty years old, sixteen years ago. From January 2nd, 2004, every day. In the early years I would skip just a couple of days each year, only because sometimes I could not, for the life of me, find an internet connection. But in recent years, I've been here, even though sometimes I have to admit, with eyes closed (like when I'm supposedly thanking Ed for waking me from a nightmare), typing away and trying hard to edit, even as I am too tired to look back and reread the simplest text.
Every year I note this January anniversary, but yesterday I just plain forgot. Honestly, my head is too full of other stuff right now. There is the delightful mind clutter: we have a bunch of family celebrations coming up and they all require some advance thinking and prep work. But mostly there is the harder stuff to keep straight -- that having to do with my mom's situation.
She is still at the Rehab Center, but they have told me that she has stalled. It's time for her to move. Onwards and upwards! But of course, she has, right now, no place to go. We're working on it, but it will take time.
So these are my challenges: get her approved, find a place, get her accepted, move her in, and in the meantime -- close up and empty out her apartment without knowing really what she'll need or where she will be in a month or two. The head spins!
What I find interesting is that my role is huge, and my time commitment to my mom right now -- it's enormous. And yet, it's not huge at all, in that were I not here, the cogs of the wheel would move everything forward, regardless. No one would throw her out on the pavement or stick her in a room with ten others, all smokers, with a history of violence. They would transfer her to a room in a facility where people would care for her. What I do is merely grease the wheels so they move smoothly. I ask questions, making sure that everyone understands what's going on. That my mom understands what's going on. I am the quality inspector. But honestly, thus far, the services provided for the aged in Madison have been superb. The people know what they are doing. My mom (who has not a penny to her name) is treated with dignity and compassion. It's impressive how much time they have spent on her case! For all those who complain about bloated government services -- wait until your old cranky great uncle, or bummed out grandmother, or you yourself need care. You may be thanking your lucky stars yet for all those services!
Oh, I do like this proud state, with its single word motto -- Forward! (see it here, on the quarter issued in 2004, commemorating Wisconsin.)
Except that the Wisconsin winters are too long.
But today is another one of those days when it seems a tad warmer than it should be, given that it's January.
After breakfast (enjoy the flowers! I have little else to offer you by way of color!)...
... I drive by the big lake on my way to my mom's apartment and notice that the water is not frozen at all. We are back in the gloom of a gray day. I don't bother taking out my camera.
The rest of my Friday is pretty much devoted to mom stuff. She has her big evaluation today -- a super important moment in her progression toward the next level of care. I'm there to talk to the staff and the person from the state agency who does the evaluation.
When I come home, after a distracted and therefore abbreviated Friday grocery shopping, I am pretty much spent. Meaning I don't want to go for a walk, I don't want to review my French, I don't want to do yoga stretches.
I do pick up my laptop, and I write.
What? No photos again??
Okay: can I interest you of a picture of our two little kitties on the porch? One has a name -- Calico, for obvious reasons. She is gray, brown and white - with true markings of a Calico. Did you know that such markings can only be had by a female? Thus we know she is a girl. The other kitten -- he looks so much like the other nameless teenagers in the shed! We will never be able to tell them apart!
You had a nightmare -- he responds.
I did? I don't remember.
You thanked me for waking you.
I must have "slept" through that whole episode as well!
I wish we hiked energetically every day, but I know that this is not realistic. Eking out a 25 minute walk is challenging enough! Fact is, I would like to do four things every day: hike, review a modest amount of French, do wholesome yoga stretches, and write (I'll count Ocean for this). Reality is that I only seem to be able to guarantee the latter -- writing. The others -- well, I'm trying.
But I never skip posting on Ocean.
Which brings me to another point: yesterday, Ocean turned a sweet 16. Meaning, I began writing here when I was just fifty years old, sixteen years ago. From January 2nd, 2004, every day. In the early years I would skip just a couple of days each year, only because sometimes I could not, for the life of me, find an internet connection. But in recent years, I've been here, even though sometimes I have to admit, with eyes closed (like when I'm supposedly thanking Ed for waking me from a nightmare), typing away and trying hard to edit, even as I am too tired to look back and reread the simplest text.
Every year I note this January anniversary, but yesterday I just plain forgot. Honestly, my head is too full of other stuff right now. There is the delightful mind clutter: we have a bunch of family celebrations coming up and they all require some advance thinking and prep work. But mostly there is the harder stuff to keep straight -- that having to do with my mom's situation.
She is still at the Rehab Center, but they have told me that she has stalled. It's time for her to move. Onwards and upwards! But of course, she has, right now, no place to go. We're working on it, but it will take time.
So these are my challenges: get her approved, find a place, get her accepted, move her in, and in the meantime -- close up and empty out her apartment without knowing really what she'll need or where she will be in a month or two. The head spins!
What I find interesting is that my role is huge, and my time commitment to my mom right now -- it's enormous. And yet, it's not huge at all, in that were I not here, the cogs of the wheel would move everything forward, regardless. No one would throw her out on the pavement or stick her in a room with ten others, all smokers, with a history of violence. They would transfer her to a room in a facility where people would care for her. What I do is merely grease the wheels so they move smoothly. I ask questions, making sure that everyone understands what's going on. That my mom understands what's going on. I am the quality inspector. But honestly, thus far, the services provided for the aged in Madison have been superb. The people know what they are doing. My mom (who has not a penny to her name) is treated with dignity and compassion. It's impressive how much time they have spent on her case! For all those who complain about bloated government services -- wait until your old cranky great uncle, or bummed out grandmother, or you yourself need care. You may be thanking your lucky stars yet for all those services!
Oh, I do like this proud state, with its single word motto -- Forward! (see it here, on the quarter issued in 2004, commemorating Wisconsin.)
Except that the Wisconsin winters are too long.
But today is another one of those days when it seems a tad warmer than it should be, given that it's January.
After breakfast (enjoy the flowers! I have little else to offer you by way of color!)...
... I drive by the big lake on my way to my mom's apartment and notice that the water is not frozen at all. We are back in the gloom of a gray day. I don't bother taking out my camera.
The rest of my Friday is pretty much devoted to mom stuff. She has her big evaluation today -- a super important moment in her progression toward the next level of care. I'm there to talk to the staff and the person from the state agency who does the evaluation.
When I come home, after a distracted and therefore abbreviated Friday grocery shopping, I am pretty much spent. Meaning I don't want to go for a walk, I don't want to review my French, I don't want to do yoga stretches.
I do pick up my laptop, and I write.
What? No photos again??
Okay: can I interest you of a picture of our two little kitties on the porch? One has a name -- Calico, for obvious reasons. She is gray, brown and white - with true markings of a Calico. Did you know that such markings can only be had by a female? Thus we know she is a girl. The other kitten -- he looks so much like the other nameless teenagers in the shed! We will never be able to tell them apart!
