ismo

Several more nights of insufficient sleep. To paraphrase the saying about coffee, a morning without enough sleep is like something without something else. Evenings too. This morning, I got up early because the basement floor refinishers were coming before 8. The Sparrowhawk was getting up too early also, but I wanted to be downstairs before he was, because it takes him awhile to get going in the morning. This just was a bad day for him in general, which I blame on the too-early rising. The basement guys were able to put some of their hoses through the basement windows, but they had to bring the grinder through the house and down the stairs, so they had to put swathes of brown cardboard walkway through the house. Then there was grinding and the smell of hot cement dust for a couple of hours. Our Zoom with Deb and the Prussian had been changed from yesterday to today, because they had a visit from their middle son. We had to go upstairs and climb up on the bed to sit together and get away from the noise to some extent.

I did most of the interfacing with the workers, because it was so hard for the Sparrowhawk to motivate from the back of the house to the front in a timely manner. After the grinding came the spreading of the moisture barrier, and then they took off for an hour to let the coating set up enough to put the next layer on. We had put our clothes on and eaten our snack as if we were going to make it to the gym, because the concrete guys assured us that they would be done by 5:30. But naah. It soon became evident that our schedule was messed up. They didn't finish until nearly 7:30. I'm not sure the Sparrowhawk would have made it anyway. Sometimes he gets a rush of good brain chemicals when he gets to the gym, but he was not looking good tonight. After the workers left, he tried to replicate some of the exercises at home, but he wasn't able to do much. He was feeling pretty unhappy about it. I did two rounds of kitchen cleanup--normally it is his pride to take care of that, but today was not the day.

Tomorrow they will come again at 8 to finish up--oh joy. But maybe it will be a better day. And then our basement floor will be done, which is something to look forward to.

I've been having a combination of exhaustion and problems with my browser, which can also cause exhaustion! Tuesday, I attended Madame's memorial service. The Sparrowhawk came with me, and even put on a shirt, tie, and his good jacket. I have a couple of funeral-appropriate outfits now. I decided not to wear the black dress. Black seems too formal for a service where the deceased wasn't even my relative. I wore the alternative, a silver-grey jacquard dress with an autumn-colored duster over it. It turned out to be very appropriate. Mademoiselle wore a beautiful long dress, black but over-printed with colorful flowers. The flowers were the most beautiful I've ever seen for a funeral. They were a riot of deep, intense reds, oranges, and golden yellow. When the sun came through the window, the light set them ablaze. It was just what Madame would have loved.

I didn't really expect her to be present in person, but she was, in an open casket. I didn't mind having another chance to say goodbye. I'm thinking I should patronize the same funeral home when the time comes, because they certainly made her look good. They even gave her a haircut! They clothed her in one of her favorite blue jackets, and I found it very poignant to see her all dressed up to go out again. She had a great sense of style and always wore intense colors. The guests were invited to come to Mademoiselle's house for refreshments, and the Sparrowhawk and I went. We arrived before most of the other people and thus ended up amusing La Petite for awhile. She showed us how she could dance and jump, and the Sparrowhawk showed her how he could make funny noises, and I showed her how I could whistle, and we all sang "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," a few times. We met Madame's other granddaughter, who used to live in Florida. She too is a beautiful child. We spent most of the time talking to Madame's son, whom I had not met before, and a couple of his friends. I had a ferocious headache all day, and was quite exhausted when we got home, but I was glad because now I feel I have done everything I possibly could. Her life here was complete.

Today, I went to the grocery store in the morning, and took the Sparrowhawk to his driving test in the afternoon. It's a special form of test given by the PT department. It's done with simulation, not in a car! In fact, Madame took the same test, at the urging of Mademoiselle, and was highly indignant about the results. She said that of course she didn't know how to work that stupid computer, but if she were in her own car, she could drive perfectly well! The Sparrowhawk is not agitating to drive again, and might not even want to. He was just curious to take the test and see what he could learn about himself. He doesn't have the full report yet. It lasted for almost two hours and made him very tired. He has been having trouble with his medication recently, which has been hard for both of us, and he's trying some readjustments. While I was in the waiting room, I did my good deed by showing another old lady how to use the automated payment devices to buy a snack. It was confusing to me when I first tried it, so I was happy to share my hard-won expertise. I bought some good chicken pot pie at the grocery store deli, and we had that for supper, with a big salad full of tomatoes, cucumbers, and corn, and some green beans.

Everyone knows one important feature of this day, so I'd like to point out another: in my neck of the woods, we have witnessed the last sunset after 8 pm for the year. There won't be another one until late March. I am sad about this. I don't like to see the darkness hurrying toward me. I could tell my small tales of the famous anniversary, but I don't feel so inclined. I've been doing my best to avoid the news all day. I did get a call from my old friend Master J in Kansas. For some reason, on this day back in 2001, she called me when she saw what was happening, and we had a conversation about what in tarnation was going on. From time to time, she remembers that, and gives me a memorial call. I miss her, so it was a pleasure to hear from her.

My request that people stop getting sick/dying has gone unheeded, alas. Another old friend has died. Terry lived with us for awhile when we were running a semi-communal household, though we fell out of touch after we moved away. In his later years, he had many health problems and had been in and out of the hospital before entering hospice. He was a genuinely humble and kind soul, always ready to help. The world is poorer for his loss.

This was the one and only day of the week when I had some time to try to clean things up for the Sparrowhawk's birthday and a visit from Tron and the Lumberjack. I had so many things I wanted to do, and got very little actually done. I made four loaves of bread, did some laundry and put away some laundry. But oh my sainted grannies, there is so much MORE that needs doing. I can't seem to hustle myself very much. I'm dragging my feet, and would really like to just hibernate for awhile, but that is not going to happen.

Last night around 10 pm, I got a call from Mademoiselle to say that she thought her mom was "transitioning." She was just letting people know so they could decide if they were going to come and visit. It was a bit confusing, and I think she was confused herself. It's no wonder. No one really knows what to think or do when someone starts down that path to leave this life. I checked in via text this morning, and decided I would not wait until Wednesday, my usual day for visiting, but would drop in this morning, if no one else was there. Mademoiselle said she would be going there soon, but it was fine if I wanted to visit as well.

Madame was in the recliner in the living room, as she had been last week. She was deeply unconscious, and not responsive to my greetings, but holding my hand seemed to be soothing to her. She was restless at times, and moved around as if she was trying to get up. The staff said she had been very agitated and uncomfortable during the night, which was why they had again moved her into the common area so they could keep a closer eye on her. She had some kind of a resurgence over the weekend, and had been sitting up in her wheelchair, smiling at visitors, and eating some oatmeal and fruit. So I had hoped she might be feeling better than she seemed last week. Alas, it was not so. I stayed with her until Mademoiselle finally arrived. I hope knowing that I was there made Mademoiselle feel comfortable taking the time for a little more self-care. By the time she got there, hospice had arrived, and the staff had moved Madame back to her bed, for comfort and a change of posture. Mademoiselle said they told her they thought her mom might be around for another week. It's hard to say.

There was no real reason for me to be knocked out when I got home, but I was. Eventually I had to take a nap. I woke up to the news that a bull and a cow had escaped from a livestock truck and gone running down 131, stalling traffic for nearly an hour. My sympathies were with the bull! Go for it! The cow was recaptured, but Mr. Bull, after trampling someone who tried to lasso him (the misguided cowpoke was not seriously injured), eventually was "put down," as they say. At least he went down fighting. It was a glorious bid for freedom, while it lasted.

Again, not the greatest night, which often means the ensuing day isn't the greatest either. Another thunderstorm rolled through in the pre-dawn hours. It was loud but not very destructive. I awoke in a hurry from a dream in which everyone but me was putting on their fancy clothes to take part in a parade. I had forgotten to pack. It was still kind of a nice dream because young Aquinas was there and so cute, just as in real life. It was a very dark morning, and after breakfast, we both went back to bed and tried to nap. This was not at all what I originally had in mind for the day.

After getting up yet again, I used my last fragment of free time to give CeeSquared a call. She had called me days ago, and I just hadn't had time to return the call. Pretty dire organ recital, alas. I also got a call from the Prussian to say he's having elbow repair surgery on Tuesday. Later, Mademoiselle texted that Madame is now on morphine 3x daily. She says the hospice nurse estimates that we're in the period of "months" to go. I don't think so. Once they start with the morphine, I think it's more a matter of weeks. I could be wrong, but that's my guess. And just to add the schlag to this melange of discouragement, I had to bite the bullet and RSVP no to the invitation to my late brother's daughter's baby shower. It's in Ithaca (New York, not Odyssean Greece) and I just didn't think we could count on the Sparrowhawk having a multi-day streak of good time. He was optimistic and wanted to say yes, but after due consideration, we agreed it might not be the best idea. I hope I'm being prudent, and not just a wet blanket.

I then went to the pharmacy to pick up my new prescription--the one that is a generic and thus costs 19 dollars instead of 480. It took a long time, because there was an old lady ahead of me (ha ha--older than me? who knows!) who had a whole raft of pill bottles for which her copay would have been close to 1,000 dollars. Holy smokes. I had to wait while the pharmacist tried to sort things out for her and get the number down to something reasonable. This poor lady tried to apologize to me, but I told her it wasn't her problem--it was their problem. A store employee who was stocking nutritional beverages in a nearby aisle grinned at me and started laughing. I'm glad I gave someone a smile. I'm not happy to have these eyedrops, because accepting that they are mine now means accepting that I have another problem that I don't want!

I picked up some grocery store sushi while I was there. I also made some eggy fried rice, with green onions, mushrooms, and green peppers and bay leaves from Fritz's garden. And I cooked the broccoli he gave us. It was so tasty and fresh that I didn't put any sauce on it, or even butter and salt. It was good all by itself. The Sparrowhawk put salsa on his eggs, for a completely international fusion experience.

I am looking forward to tomorrow, because I have no appointments. I have to take the Sparrowhawk to PT, but it's not MY appointment, so I can just sit and read while I wait. It's been a busy couple of days. Yesterday, I had to be up and at 'em in time to get to the eye doctor at nine am. I also had a dentist's appointment at 10, but decided to reschedule it after the last time I visited the eye doctor. I was pretty sure he would not complete his work in an hour, and I was right. His assistant performed all the tests very expeditiously, but then I had to wait half an hour for the doctor himself to show up and finish the exam. And tell me I have glaucoma now, SIGH. The operation they did earlier failed to reduce my intra-ocular pressure enough. He did say it was practically undetectable at this point, and I'm still scoring very high on the peripheral vision acuity test. But they do want to treat it--with eyedrops that would cost me 480 dollars per month! I called customer service and learned from a very helpful person that a very slightly different formulation would be Tier 2 instead of Tier 3, and thus would cost me only 8 dollars. So now I have to get hold of the doctor and get him to change the prescription. Irritating, but I'm grateful that they can and will start treatment right away, and that there is a potential fix for my prescription cost.

I made too much spaghetti and ran out of sauce, so I made some more sauce for the Sparrowhawk. I hope it comes out even this time. I cooked the green beans that Fritz gave us. He was concerned that they were overripe and would be tough, but I found them perfect! And then I had a meeting with my women's group. I caught a ride with Calaveras, who sweetly observed that she has missed giving me a ride and chatting on the way. "It's our tradition!" she said. It's nice to have a tradition with a friend. She has been occupied making some unspecified number of burritos for her grandchildren and their friends at their first track meet of the year. I tried to think of a way that I could help her, but I had no time today, because as stated above, it was busy.

I went to my rescheduled dental appointment at 9, and then stopped at the grocery store to get coffee and cake for Madame, and proceeded directly to her residence. As I pulled into the parking lot, I got a text from Mademoiselle. The staff let her know that Madame had a very agitated night and kept saying that she was in pain. They set her up in a comfortable recliner in the living room area to sleep, so they could check on her and she would not be alone in her room. When I came in, she was asleep. I didn't want to wake her after her stressful night, so I just sat with her until she woke up. Meanwhile, Mademoiselle texted that she and her family would be over soon, and they would be meeting the hospice nurse. I stayed with her until they came, about an hour and a half. When she woke up, she was more like herself, and asked me "What's been happening with you lately?" I've figured out that this is her go-to question when she's not quite sure who you are! After I talk with her for a few minutes, I become a familiar face again, and she remembers me.

At first she was happy to drink some of the mocha frappucino I brought, but I think it was too cold for her. She asked for some water, which she almost never does, and then said "Something is wrong." I tried to find out what it was, but she couldn't tell me. She soon dozed off again. Waking up at intervals, she asked her usual question--"Why am I here?" And I answered it as I always do. She had taken a drastic dip in coherence. One of the staff came by while she was asleep again, and asked if she was talking to me. I said yes, and she then asked "Is she making sense?" "Well--sometimes!" I replied. She's making up words that I know make sense to her, but I have trouble guessing what they mean. When her daughter and the hospice nurse came, I excused myself so they could have privacy. Mademoiselle and the baby both gave me hugs, and at that point I regret to say I teared up and had to hasten away. It is sad to see her like this. I hope she will feel better soon.

I had time to stop at the grocery store again for needed items, and bought some picnic food--chocolate, Hawaiian rolls, salami, and a frozen key lime pie. As one does when an old friend is failing . . . It is funny that I've known Madame long enough that she is now an old friend. I was glad to get home, because the Sparrowhawk was not having a good morning either. He was glad to have me back. I tried to take a nap, but no dice. However, I got rested enough to go to the gym. I decided to have fun there, and I did. It is oppressively hot out, but the gym wasn't as debilitating as I feared. We had ice cream instead of dinner.

There's a thing in Michigan called Meijer, formerly known as Meijer's Thrifty Acres, and even now referred to by everyone as "Meijer's." Just as Ford Motor Company is "Ford's" to those who work there. It's a giant store that sells everything. Today I drove us there, because the Sparrowhawk had to pick up a prescription. I wonder why all the prescriptions can't be in the same place, but apparently they cannot, because reasons. What actually happened was that I dropped him off and then went to look for a nearby parking spot, not the easiest thing on a Saturday. I came back, we stopped at the pharmacy, and then he went and sat on a bench by the door while I picked up a couple of other necessities. It was not the best time of day for him, and it's never really a good time of day for him to walk around a place that covers a couple of acres and still manages to be crowded with people who don't watch where they're going. When you first enter this amazing Treasury of Stuff, it's like Aladdin's cave and you wonder why you don't shop here all the time and buy All the Things!! By the time you find the milk and orange juice and get the hell out of Dodge without killing or being killed, you know darn well why you don't shop here EVER!

I was tired by the time I got home. In my dreams, I had already navigated New York City on foot, so I was tired when I woke up. I took a few minutes to make some horiatiki in anticipation of supper, with one of the green peppers Fritz brought us. It was a toss-up whether I'd go to church or take a nap, but in the end I decided to brace up and go to church. We were glad we did, because the music was really great for a change. We had leftovers for dinner, plus the horiatiki, a welcome addition. The Sparrowhawk spent about two hours arranging plane tickets for Tron's graduation in December. We will be thrilled to attend, and are doing our best to make it doable.

The morning after the gym, every inch of my body is achy, right down to my fingers. I had to move pretty fast anyway, to arrive at the Sparrowhawk's PT appointment at 10. Again I sat and read a book for almost the whole hour. I also bought a very unsatisfactory sandwich in their little auto-cafe. They used to have a table and a trash can in the waiting room, but both have mysteriously vanished, so if anyone should be so unfortunate as to require sustenance from the cafe offerings, that person will have to prepare and eat the snack on their lap, and stash the trash in their own bag. Like so many things about waiting rooms, this seems like a failure of humanity or imagination, or maybe both.

The Sparrowhawk did pretty well in his session. I then drove to the shopping plaza so he could get a haircut while I picked up his prescription and a couple of other items. I asked him if he'd rather use ground beef for a hamburger or spaghetti, and he opted for spaghetti. When we got home, I cooked some bratwurst for protein snacks for him, and then browned the meat and added peppers and onions and made spaghetti sauce for tonight. I had some chat with a friend while the Sparrowhawk took a nap. But when he woke up, I was so tired that I also took a nap. I had great difficulty waking up! I think after a gym day, I need not just a good night's sleep, but a DOUBLE good night's sleep. I'm afraid that's unattainable. A framed print arrived of an absolutely beautiful photo the Sparrowhawk took, not this year, but in an earlier year by the lake. It perfectly illustrates "the Road goes ever on," and is so appropriate for our 55th year. Now we just have to decide where to hang it.

Well, I'm back. I'm forced to take up the threads of everyday life again, now that all my birds have flown. The Diva returned from the lake with us on Sunday night, and stayed here yesterday. We mixed another round of sourdough, she tried again, unsuccessfully, to find a Michigan-themed zip-up hoodie, and I made that mango chicken curry I keep talking about for dinner, finally. The mangos were still happy. This morning I drove her to the airport to get her rental car so she could return to Detroit Metro and fly home. I got back to the house in time to take the Sparrowhawk to his dentist's appointment. Then we Zoomed with Deb and the Prussian, and later, I checked on Queenie, who survived her 3-hour dental surgery yesterday. She said they told her not to talk for two days, but she did talk a little. The Diva paused in her trajectory to visit her sister Tron, and now she's back home in North Carolina. Everyone else was home by Sunday, some earlier. Raptor and Aquinas sent adorable first-day-of-school pictures. Another friend tried to call me, but I didn't pick up because I was already on the phone with someone else.

I can't even describe what a lovely time we had last week. The house we rented was amazingly convenient and spacious, and the people in it were my very favorite. The weather was spectacularly pleasant, with just one big rainstorm at exactly the right time of day, and a half-dozen gorgeous sunsets. It was a golden time, to be remembered forever. We miss everyone very much. They were angels to us. One day, Tron took us to the bookstore cafe for coffee, and delayed us there long enough for all the other kids to decorate the rental house with garlands of woodland leaves and gold stars with the numeral 55, and to set the table with special paper plates and napkins and the paints and supplies to paint memorial rocks, of which we had a great many gathered in previous years. After the event, the Diva brought the decorations home and put them up around the house. The painted rocks are sitting in a bakery box on the table, looking just like delicious confections. If I won the lottery, I'd hire someone to make candy equivalents so we could eat them. We have a placard hung up on our front door that says "No Admittance Except on Party Business." If only! I'd like the party to go on indefinitely, but I guess that would be too much to ask.

I told the Diva that it made me think of the part at the end of The Lord of the Rings, during the healing of the Shire.

"Altogether 1420 in the Shire was a marvelous year. Not only was there wonderful sunshine and delicious rain, in due times and perfect measure, but there seemed something more: an air of richness and growth, and a gleam of a beauty beyond that of mortal summers that flicker and pass upon this Middle-earth. All the children born or begotten in that year, and there were many, were fair to see and strong, and most of them had a rich golden hair that had before been rare among hobbits. The fruit was so plentiful that young hobbits very nearly bathed in strawberries and cream; and later they sat on the lawns under the plum-trees and ate, until they had made piles of stones like small pyramids or the heaped skulls of a conqueror, and then they moved on. And no one was ill, and everyone was pleased, except those who had to mow the grass. . . . The Northfarthing barley was so fine that the beer of 1420 malt was long remembered and became a byword. Indeed, a generation later one might hear an old gaffer in an inn, after a good pint of well-earned ale, put down his mug with a sigh: 'Ah! That was proper 1420, that was!'"

And the Diva laughed and said she was going to get a "1420" tattoo. I said I would get one too--but now that puts us two tattoos behind, because we said we'd get total eclipse tattoos too, and we haven't yet. I wonder if there's an age limit on when a person can get tattoos. I doubt they'd do one if I were over 80 . . . .

It was a successful day on several counts. The Diva and I took the two sourdough loaves out of the refrigerator and baked them in a cast iron casserole. She showed me the trick of using parchment paper to lift them into the baking container and then let the paper line the container so it's easy to get them in and out. The first loaf was splendid--I thought--though the second one was smaller and not quite as well risen. The Diva was disappointed that they didn't have the perfect shape. But the Sparrowhawk loved the crispy crust, and all admitted that the springy, chewy texture was perfect.

The Diva took the Sparrowhawk out to run a couple of errands. When they were about to leave, Fearless Leader texted us that he had a lot of big fat puffballs in his yard, and wondered if we would like some. So they swung by his house and picked up some wonderful mushrooms. He had even cleaned and sliced them for us. In case anyone is not aware, puffballs are some of the most innocuous and safe mushrooms you can forage. There is close to zero chance that you will have any negative experience with a puffball, nor can they be easily mistaken for anything else. They look like big, fat, white softballs, or maybe overgrown marshmallows. They are pure protein and all you have to do is fry them until soft and browned, sprinkle some salt and seasonings, and eat them. It occurred to me too late that I could have put in some garlic, but I didn't.

We also got another text from Dr. Nurse, asking if we would like them to stop by sometime. Which of course we wanted, so that the Diva could meet Bird Boy and see Bird Girl, not to mention the adult cousins. They arrived after the Sparrowhawk's nap, and stayed for dinner, which I cooked in a tearing hurry. I had something else planned, but changed the plan to spaghetti, because Dr. Music has gone vegan, and it was easier to adapt spaghetti for a non-meat option. I gave him meatless sauce with just some onion and parsley added, plus giant mushroom steaks. Everyone else had sauce with sausage and ground beef in addition to onions and parsley, and of course all the mushrooms they wanted as well. And we had salad, tomatoes, corn on the cob, green beans, and steamed baby zucchini. AND the bread, with both regular butter and plant-based spread. I forgot to mention that Dr. Nurse is off dairy because she feels it upsets Bird Boy's stomach. Bird Girl loved the bread, and probably ate half a loaf all by herself. She ate a good supper, but also took home a little box with bread, noodles, and blueberries in it, for her bedtime snack. I brought the dolls downstairs for her, and she lined them all up in their beds, like a train. The Diva laughed, because she is a pre-school teacher, and she says every four year old in the world would do exactly the same. I think a good time was had by all. I had planned to start packing today, but this was more fun.