For about three minutes yesterday, I wanted to be one of those people. My father was one apparently. The people who get into the spirit of every holiday. Throw themselves into it with wild abandon. My father actually had jock o' lantern lights before they were popular. He was a big decorator and hanger upper of lights-er. Me, I could care much, much less than I do. Hmm, come to think of it, I probably couldn't care much less...
Then again, the holidays can be a good marketing tool. On the flip side, over commercialization of the holidays is, I think, making people past the age of 18 a little jaded about them all. Hmph.
I don't know who else to share this with, but I had a good day at the Smith. Or rather, a good day was had at the Smith. A couple of Frat men came to volunteer. I set them to cleaning out the orchestra pit under the apron of the stage. I haven't checked their work, but from the pile of crap the pulled out and left for me to go through, I think they did a decent job. A huge pile of cables - most of which were broken - only one end had plugs, a bunch of wood, some carpet remnants, some lighting equipment (not lights, but conduit and track and such), some moving blankets (What?!) and a few random things all were heaped in a corner for me to do with as I willed. Most of it ended up in the tech cemetery of despair.
Friday, January 31, 2014
I am Number Four and Downtown Express Movie Reviewishes
When I first started watching I am Number Four, I couldn't remember how it got onto my Netflix list. It took a long while before I realized what, or who, it was that had led me there: whatshername from Glee. Dianna Agron who played Quinn Fabray. And because it was science fiction. And it looked ok when I read about it, despite not having stellar starage ratings.
Overall I enjoyed it. I didn't realize until the end that it was taken from a book by the same name - there are a series of them - YA books it turns out. Why do I like YA books so much? Why do I like writing YA (Young Adult)? I might just have to get them from the library, though I don't know that the series is complete - if it is a series and not just books from the same thought world. Anyway, since the title was I am Number Four, I kinda thought there might have to be books about other numbers. Sesame Street would have been proud.
The lead guy was not too atrocious. I liked both the women/girls a lot. In fact I am planning on adding more movies by the woman who played Number Six at some point - if I can find one that is rated with more than moderate starage. I have found that movies that are rated less than 5 often don't appeal. Not even in a cheesy sort of way.
No plot description here, though I guess it sort of made sense somehow. Some fun action scenes. Scary neo-nazi alien bad guys. All in all a thumbs up in my pea brain!
Bonus movie review: We had Downtown Express at the Smith because the main character was played Philippe Quint - the same person who is the featured solo-ist with the Rochester Philharmonic playing at the Smith on January 31st. My mom also saw it. It was ok. Not great. I didn't really get the feeling that there was a lot of chemistry between any of the actors. The music was good, though repetitive. It seemed like they only learned two songs for the whole movie. Ok, I exaggerate a bit - maybe four songs. It never seemed to decide whether it was a couple of love stories or a story about a young musician finding himself. Still, glad I saw it!
Overall I enjoyed it. I didn't realize until the end that it was taken from a book by the same name - there are a series of them - YA books it turns out. Why do I like YA books so much? Why do I like writing YA (Young Adult)? I might just have to get them from the library, though I don't know that the series is complete - if it is a series and not just books from the same thought world. Anyway, since the title was I am Number Four, I kinda thought there might have to be books about other numbers. Sesame Street would have been proud.
The lead guy was not too atrocious. I liked both the women/girls a lot. In fact I am planning on adding more movies by the woman who played Number Six at some point - if I can find one that is rated with more than moderate starage. I have found that movies that are rated less than 5 often don't appeal. Not even in a cheesy sort of way.
No plot description here, though I guess it sort of made sense somehow. Some fun action scenes. Scary neo-nazi alien bad guys. All in all a thumbs up in my pea brain!
Bonus movie review: We had Downtown Express at the Smith because the main character was played Philippe Quint - the same person who is the featured solo-ist with the Rochester Philharmonic playing at the Smith on January 31st. My mom also saw it. It was ok. Not great. I didn't really get the feeling that there was a lot of chemistry between any of the actors. The music was good, though repetitive. It seemed like they only learned two songs for the whole movie. Ok, I exaggerate a bit - maybe four songs. It never seemed to decide whether it was a couple of love stories or a story about a young musician finding himself. Still, glad I saw it!
Thursday, January 30, 2014
I have this odd desire to help random people and other odds and ends...
What the heck is that about? I have an FB friend who is in need of help - not that I could really help her, but I want to. What is up with that? Another person I met could really use a friend, so I want to do that for her. Really? I see a homeless person, and I would love to be able to help them find what they need to make different choices. I see a puppy or a seal or a dolphin on FB and I want to help heal the world. Sigh.
I know in my heart of hearts that the best help I can be to all and sundry is to be the best me that I can be.
Recently, mom saw one of those "feed the children for pennies a day" and "cure the hairlips of these kids" infomercials. It saddens me that the wealthy in this world sit on their money and don't fix what can be fixed. Greed and selfishness. There IS enough to go around. Really.
Mom has taken another step down the ladder. Now she has gotten to the stage where she really doesn't like to use utensils. Which means I need to give her food that can be easily and neatly (for my sanity) be eaten with her hands. Sigh. New menus need to be planned...
I will be starting my relationship blog next month - day after tomorrow. I don't plan on sharing posts with Facebook or twitter, so if you want to read it, you will have to actively look for it (or put an RSS feed from it somewhere...) I might also post in my political blog, though that seems more scary in some ways than posting in my relationship (or lack thereof) blog. We shall see. Anyway, the relationship blog - I will definitely write one post a day. Maybe more. For a month. And see what happens. Maybe it will get me to revisit my relationship book. Hey, anyone know any freelance graphic artists who might want to collaborate on a book project? Not the relationship book, but a self-help book...
I know in my heart of hearts that the best help I can be to all and sundry is to be the best me that I can be.
Recently, mom saw one of those "feed the children for pennies a day" and "cure the hairlips of these kids" infomercials. It saddens me that the wealthy in this world sit on their money and don't fix what can be fixed. Greed and selfishness. There IS enough to go around. Really.
Mom has taken another step down the ladder. Now she has gotten to the stage where she really doesn't like to use utensils. Which means I need to give her food that can be easily and neatly (for my sanity) be eaten with her hands. Sigh. New menus need to be planned...
I will be starting my relationship blog next month - day after tomorrow. I don't plan on sharing posts with Facebook or twitter, so if you want to read it, you will have to actively look for it (or put an RSS feed from it somewhere...) I might also post in my political blog, though that seems more scary in some ways than posting in my relationship (or lack thereof) blog. We shall see. Anyway, the relationship blog - I will definitely write one post a day. Maybe more. For a month. And see what happens. Maybe it will get me to revisit my relationship book. Hey, anyone know any freelance graphic artists who might want to collaborate on a book project? Not the relationship book, but a self-help book...
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Another Movie Review-ish - The Lone Ranger
I liked The Lone Ranger better than the reviewers did. It did try too hard, but I didn't mind. I liked Johnny Depp as Tonto. I wasn't put off my his portrayal of a Native American. I thought whoever played John, the Lone Ranger was fine despite being written as a bit of a goof. Some good cameos and lesser parts. Some cool choreography. An ok story. I thought some of the jokes were cute. And although it wasn't steam
punk, it is still an era that I enjoy watching movies about. (Wow, what
an awkward sentence...) All in all, I would give it a mild
recommendation. Glad I saw it. I think mom was confused. Quelle suprise.
I have decided that being a projectionist at the Smith is not the best way to see movies. In fact it is a crappy way. When projecting a movie there, I don't feel that I ought to be sitting watching the whole movie. I need to be roaming about the space, checking on things, doing this and that. And there isn't really any one place in the theatre that lets me keep an eye on things and watch the movie at the same time. And it is during the movies that I get my best work done on the slide show.
Talk about a lot of work. Keeping up with the slideshow is time consuming. I do think it is a valuable tool, though. One of the first things I suggested after taking on the role of "film guy" at the Smith was to suggest that we run a slide show while patrons were waiting for the movie. We had been running some sound, which is good, but I also implemented the usage of Spotify to create playlists of music that was in some way related to the film. Often speciously, but, better than silence and better than generic music. Anyway, one of the office guys took a whack at creating the slide show and did a decent job of picking a template and putting some information in. Since then, I have been taking care of it. Adding to it, trying to make it a little more interesting and informative. Hopefully mildly entertaining But it changes at least weekly. And this week, and for the month of February, it will be changing, well, it ought to be changing, almost daily. Though I might let a day slide here or there depending on my busy-ness (mental or actual - is mental actual too?). Speaking of which, when I get back to the Smith, I will have to work on the slide show. Yay!
I have decided that being a projectionist at the Smith is not the best way to see movies. In fact it is a crappy way. When projecting a movie there, I don't feel that I ought to be sitting watching the whole movie. I need to be roaming about the space, checking on things, doing this and that. And there isn't really any one place in the theatre that lets me keep an eye on things and watch the movie at the same time. And it is during the movies that I get my best work done on the slide show.
Talk about a lot of work. Keeping up with the slideshow is time consuming. I do think it is a valuable tool, though. One of the first things I suggested after taking on the role of "film guy" at the Smith was to suggest that we run a slide show while patrons were waiting for the movie. We had been running some sound, which is good, but I also implemented the usage of Spotify to create playlists of music that was in some way related to the film. Often speciously, but, better than silence and better than generic music. Anyway, one of the office guys took a whack at creating the slide show and did a decent job of picking a template and putting some information in. Since then, I have been taking care of it. Adding to it, trying to make it a little more interesting and informative. Hopefully mildly entertaining But it changes at least weekly. And this week, and for the month of February, it will be changing, well, it ought to be changing, almost daily. Though I might let a day slide here or there depending on my busy-ness (mental or actual - is mental actual too?). Speaking of which, when I get back to the Smith, I will have to work on the slide show. Yay!
Saturday, January 25, 2014
The Butler - a movie reviewishlike thingie...
I put The Butler on my Netflix list - I love the DVD part of Netflix (actually all parts of Netflix). Well, actually it is my mom's Netflix list. Anyway, The Lone Ranger is next. But, first, The Butler. I put it on for my mom the other night, fully expecting her to say what a great movie it was when I got back from wherever I was (showing a movie at the Smith, no doubt). Instead I got back and she told me that she hadn't really enjoyed it all that much. Quelle suprise! Everyone thought it was a shoe-in for an Oscar Nomination. Anyway, since I had a night-in coming along, I decided to watch it again with mom. Maybe my being there and helping her to understand the movie might help her like it better.
Well. It just wasn't a good movie in my opinion. I like Forrest Whittaker. I like Oprah. I loved all the cameos - John Cusak was great as Nixon - Jane Fonda (!?!) as Nancy Regan - Alan Rickman as Reagan - all good stuff. But there was just something lumpy about it. It just didn't flow. And the whole juxtaposition between the butler stuff and the civil rights stuff was interesting but it just felt contrived and forced. Good history to remember. I love historical movies. Sadly, this one just didn't thrill me. At all.
Well. It just wasn't a good movie in my opinion. I like Forrest Whittaker. I like Oprah. I loved all the cameos - John Cusak was great as Nixon - Jane Fonda (!?!) as Nancy Regan - Alan Rickman as Reagan - all good stuff. But there was just something lumpy about it. It just didn't flow. And the whole juxtaposition between the butler stuff and the civil rights stuff was interesting but it just felt contrived and forced. Good history to remember. I love historical movies. Sadly, this one just didn't thrill me. At all.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Back to yoga
Don't tell anyone, but for a few weeks, I wasn't doing my teeny weeny bit of yoga. On a side note, I am sad that I never convinced mom to take it upon herself to do yoga. I tried leading her to the water many times, but she wouldn't drink unless I held the dipper to her lips and massaged her throat. Sigh. Anyway, I wasn't doing it. Not a lick. I thought about it most days, but just couldn't seem to get around to it. Part of the issue was the state of my room. Not pretty. Luckily we had a visitor, whose imminent arrival prompted me to do a fairly thorough cleaning. I mean, I even vacuumed under and around the radiator! Eeek! Clean enough to eat off. Well, dirt never stopped me eating off the floor. Five second rule, ha! I laugh at the five second rule!
Ok, read on if you want to hear all about me and my yoga.
I started studying esoteric things when I was 15 or so. Boston/Cambridge had cool bookshops that smelled of incense and had sparkly crystals and things hanging all over the place. There, I read a lot about the various types of yoga. My senior year, as we were signing up for sports (it was mandatory to sign up for one physical activity every trimester) I noticed that a class in yoga was being offered. Huzzuh! So, for an entire semester I took a yoga class. It might have been during that class that Richard Hittleman's 28 Day Yoga Exercise plan was mentioned - or I came across it in one of the bookstores I patronized. I am not sure how it landed in my hands. But once the class was over, I decided I wanted to continue my studies and that was the book/manual I used. The next year, I taught my girlfriend (my first really long term adult relationship) about yoga. She got way into it and we even did yoga together sometimes.
At the time, I was rotating between the three different routines that are offered in the book. I also worked through Richard Hittleman's 30 Yoga Meditation Book and another book by someone else whose name escapes me. At this point, back in 1906 - no, that isn't right - 1980ish, I ended up doing one of four routines just about every day (except when I had partied a little too heartily the night before). I did this for most of the next five years. Sometimes twice a day.
In China, I studied a little T'ai Chi and did that while living there. I still did a little yoga on my own. When I got back to America, I let the t'ai chi slide and went back to doing yoga near every day. My habit was to make yoga the first thing I did in a day. Not absolutely first - but before I ate or drank anything. Not really sure where that came from. Decent habit though (which continues to this day).
Over the years, I told various people about yoga, like my mom, friends, girlfriends, random strangers on airplanes. Some picked it up and loved it - others tried it and moved on. I always told them - do what feels right - don't push yourself - it isn't a competition - find a teacher you like and take classes from them. I tried to follow this advice myself, taking classes here and there, sometimes on my own, sometimes at someone's suggestion. I was even tempted to do a yoga retreat or to get certified to teach yoga. Neither of those has happened. Yet. But I have yet to find a teacher that resonates - or a class that is as convenient as my bedroom floor.
For the past few years, not sure when it started, my yoga practice has been significantly reduced in scope. Basically it is a few twisty things - not really a yoga posture, but something one of my myriad girlfriends turned me on to (I think) - then five standing complete breaths - then two sunrise salutes - the non-jumpy kind. Sometimes I do a couple other things - depending on my mood and if something yoga like has been prescribed by Daily Challenge.
Then, in December, I stopped. Cold Turkey. Just stopped doing yoga. Until a couple of days ago. Truth be told, I am getting a lot of exercise working at the Smith. Still, I missed it. So I started again.
A little side story. I don't know if Karl remembers this - I think he has forgotten. Anyway. We were both home visiting mom for something - maybe her birthday - whatever - I was down stairs, he was heading up to sleep. He stopped part way up and said - are you still doing yoga? I said - yes. He said - I will pray for you. (He was in one of his churchy-phases.) I said - Thank you! Why? He said - Because you are going to hell. I said - Oh, that's nice. You do realize that yoga isn't a religion. He said - Doesn't matter - you're still going to hell.
Good night everyone.
Ok, read on if you want to hear all about me and my yoga.
I started studying esoteric things when I was 15 or so. Boston/Cambridge had cool bookshops that smelled of incense and had sparkly crystals and things hanging all over the place. There, I read a lot about the various types of yoga. My senior year, as we were signing up for sports (it was mandatory to sign up for one physical activity every trimester) I noticed that a class in yoga was being offered. Huzzuh! So, for an entire semester I took a yoga class. It might have been during that class that Richard Hittleman's 28 Day Yoga Exercise plan was mentioned - or I came across it in one of the bookstores I patronized. I am not sure how it landed in my hands. But once the class was over, I decided I wanted to continue my studies and that was the book/manual I used. The next year, I taught my girlfriend (my first really long term adult relationship) about yoga. She got way into it and we even did yoga together sometimes.
At the time, I was rotating between the three different routines that are offered in the book. I also worked through Richard Hittleman's 30 Yoga Meditation Book and another book by someone else whose name escapes me. At this point, back in 1906 - no, that isn't right - 1980ish, I ended up doing one of four routines just about every day (except when I had partied a little too heartily the night before). I did this for most of the next five years. Sometimes twice a day.
In China, I studied a little T'ai Chi and did that while living there. I still did a little yoga on my own. When I got back to America, I let the t'ai chi slide and went back to doing yoga near every day. My habit was to make yoga the first thing I did in a day. Not absolutely first - but before I ate or drank anything. Not really sure where that came from. Decent habit though (which continues to this day).
Over the years, I told various people about yoga, like my mom, friends, girlfriends, random strangers on airplanes. Some picked it up and loved it - others tried it and moved on. I always told them - do what feels right - don't push yourself - it isn't a competition - find a teacher you like and take classes from them. I tried to follow this advice myself, taking classes here and there, sometimes on my own, sometimes at someone's suggestion. I was even tempted to do a yoga retreat or to get certified to teach yoga. Neither of those has happened. Yet. But I have yet to find a teacher that resonates - or a class that is as convenient as my bedroom floor.
For the past few years, not sure when it started, my yoga practice has been significantly reduced in scope. Basically it is a few twisty things - not really a yoga posture, but something one of my myriad girlfriends turned me on to (I think) - then five standing complete breaths - then two sunrise salutes - the non-jumpy kind. Sometimes I do a couple other things - depending on my mood and if something yoga like has been prescribed by Daily Challenge.
Then, in December, I stopped. Cold Turkey. Just stopped doing yoga. Until a couple of days ago. Truth be told, I am getting a lot of exercise working at the Smith. Still, I missed it. So I started again.
A little side story. I don't know if Karl remembers this - I think he has forgotten. Anyway. We were both home visiting mom for something - maybe her birthday - whatever - I was down stairs, he was heading up to sleep. He stopped part way up and said - are you still doing yoga? I said - yes. He said - I will pray for you. (He was in one of his churchy-phases.) I said - Thank you! Why? He said - Because you are going to hell. I said - Oh, that's nice. You do realize that yoga isn't a religion. He said - Doesn't matter - you're still going to hell.
Good night everyone.
Monday, January 20, 2014
The State of ME
So, I bet some of you are wondering how I am.
Heck, I am wondering how I am.
Honestly, I am ok. A little burned out, a little stressed out, a little wigged out (or is that whigged), a little bit country, a little bit rock...no, wait, that was a couple of other people - where was I? Oh, right, a little bit frustrated, a little bit scared, a little bit happy and a lot of just taking it day by day, day by day, oh dear Ford, three things I pay...mortgage, car loan and student loan...again, not me, I was channeling someone named Lincoln, I think. Moving on.
I am well and happy. Yes, my life is not as easy and carefree as I would like. Full time care giver and working part time at a rewarding and sometimes stressful job can have its challenges. Which is to say I would welcome a break, a respite even. I have my name on a respite list with the county but the chances of that coming through are about 1 in 30, counting on 29 people to pass on to the happy hunting grounds. Not very likely. What, you may ask, are my other options? My brother could come and take over for me for a few weeks. My sister has offered to come for a bit; that would be swell. Other than them, not a really deep bench of people stepping up to the plate to help. I have a couple of friends who have offered - if they lived closer. But they don't live closer. Sigh.
Onward. All one can really do is keep getting up and living each day as it comes. Lots of thoughts, plans, feelings and such, rumbling around, but no concrete answers. Not that concrete answers really are concrete answers. I am not yet at the point in my life where I could use another serendipitous moment, or deus ex machina to shake things up. But that time is coming...maybe in six or seven months...
Heck, I am wondering how I am.
Honestly, I am ok. A little burned out, a little stressed out, a little wigged out (or is that whigged), a little bit country, a little bit rock...no, wait, that was a couple of other people - where was I? Oh, right, a little bit frustrated, a little bit scared, a little bit happy and a lot of just taking it day by day, day by day, oh dear Ford, three things I pay...mortgage, car loan and student loan...again, not me, I was channeling someone named Lincoln, I think. Moving on.
I am well and happy. Yes, my life is not as easy and carefree as I would like. Full time care giver and working part time at a rewarding and sometimes stressful job can have its challenges. Which is to say I would welcome a break, a respite even. I have my name on a respite list with the county but the chances of that coming through are about 1 in 30, counting on 29 people to pass on to the happy hunting grounds. Not very likely. What, you may ask, are my other options? My brother could come and take over for me for a few weeks. My sister has offered to come for a bit; that would be swell. Other than them, not a really deep bench of people stepping up to the plate to help. I have a couple of friends who have offered - if they lived closer. But they don't live closer. Sigh.
Onward. All one can really do is keep getting up and living each day as it comes. Lots of thoughts, plans, feelings and such, rumbling around, but no concrete answers. Not that concrete answers really are concrete answers. I am not yet at the point in my life where I could use another serendipitous moment, or deus ex machina to shake things up. But that time is coming...maybe in six or seven months...
Sunday, January 19, 2014
3 Weeks
I would like three weeks off from my life - a true vacation. That would be nifty. More than nifty, it would be fantabulous! I can see it now (imagine wavy lines)...
Day One - Wake up, stretch, realize that there is someone else who is going to be responsible for mom's comfort (to the best of their abilities) for the day. Slow realization that this will be the case for the next 20 days as well makes me anxious and lighter at the same time. Since I am still here in the house, though, I know that I will find myself checking in with mom anyway. Sigh. As the day passes and I don't have to worry about making lunch for mom, checking on her eating it, getting her pills, making sure she has tissues and bandaids and toilet paper, I feel a few little knots of tension dissipate. That night, I might actually take myself out to dinner and sit in a pub for a few hours without thinking that I am neglecting mom, that I ought to have brought her to out to eat, that she might be just sitting in the house pretending to read.
Day Two - Wake up and smell no coffee! Not my business. The day stretches forth in front of me with no mom-sibilities. Yay! I decide that I probably ought to pack to get ready for my escape. Just an aside, I am not one to pack days and days before I leave on a trip. I have packed so often for myself, that I am pretty quick and efficient at it. Two pairs of pants, three t-shirts, a couple of long sleeved shirts, 8 pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, toiletries and maybe an extra sweatshirt or sweater and that is about it. Since I am wearing clothes when I leave (usually), that means I have three pairs of pants, four t-shirts, some sort of extra layer, 9 pairs of socks and six pairs of underwear. If I am traveling for more than a week, all or parts of this can be easily washed. Yay! I am not averse to wearing the same thing a few days (or a month) in a row. I go out for lunch, do a good bit of walking places as I don't need to worry that mom has fallen down or anything. Out to dinner too again, and more pubbing. I do enjoy just sitting in a pub, most times.
Day Three - Off into the wild blue yonder! Woo hoo! Freedom! I can go anywhere, do anything! (Well within reason - sadly financial concerns need to be taken into account) And I am not as young as I once was, so extreme sports are most likely out of the realm of likelihood. Since my flight leaves from NYC, I impose a smidge on the kindness of relatives and head to Kingston, NY. I get there after lunch, head to one of the local pubs and relax. Dinner with Ernst and Betty. Out again to explore a bit after dinner.
Day Four - E&B help me get to the train to get into NYC to catch my flight. Where am I going? Someplace else. Doesn't really matter. Someplace new-ish to me, most definitely. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy going to places I have been before. There is always more to experience and explore. I also, though, love going to places I have never been. Am I going to cruise - not opposed to cruising - take a guided tour - I have done this at least once and enjoyed it - go someplace and rent a car and toodle around on my own - possibly. All I know is that for days five through sixteen, I will be someplace far removed from Geneva and my mom-sibilities.
Days 5 - 16 - Travel and explore and experience and unfold. Will mom be in my mind (and heart)? Sure. Will I call every day? I don't know. Part of me says that I could do that, part of me says that I don't want to. Which will win out? Maybe some happy medium - every other day? Maybe once every three days? How often is often enough? Will she completely forget me while I am away? Who knows? I will send a postcard or two for sure. And take lots of pictures.
Day 17 - Back to NYC and then Kingston. Start to unwind from the trip.
Day 18 - Visit someone or someplace not too far from Kingston. Using Kingston as my home base for one more day.
Day 19 - Back to Geneva. Yes, I feel the weight begin to descend upon my shoulders just a bit.
Day 20 - Head off somewhere for a massage and one more full day of no mom-sibilities.
Day 21 - Back to the house, wake up, know that tomorrow all the mom-sibilities will be mine once again. Pass through the day, starting to get my ducks in a row - figuring out what the next few days will look like. Planning dinners, shopping, Smith time, mom time, me time - oops, that come out fifth on the list. Hmm.
Day 22 - Get up and check on mom...
Day One - Wake up, stretch, realize that there is someone else who is going to be responsible for mom's comfort (to the best of their abilities) for the day. Slow realization that this will be the case for the next 20 days as well makes me anxious and lighter at the same time. Since I am still here in the house, though, I know that I will find myself checking in with mom anyway. Sigh. As the day passes and I don't have to worry about making lunch for mom, checking on her eating it, getting her pills, making sure she has tissues and bandaids and toilet paper, I feel a few little knots of tension dissipate. That night, I might actually take myself out to dinner and sit in a pub for a few hours without thinking that I am neglecting mom, that I ought to have brought her to out to eat, that she might be just sitting in the house pretending to read.
Day Two - Wake up and smell no coffee! Not my business. The day stretches forth in front of me with no mom-sibilities. Yay! I decide that I probably ought to pack to get ready for my escape. Just an aside, I am not one to pack days and days before I leave on a trip. I have packed so often for myself, that I am pretty quick and efficient at it. Two pairs of pants, three t-shirts, a couple of long sleeved shirts, 8 pairs of socks, five pairs of underwear, toiletries and maybe an extra sweatshirt or sweater and that is about it. Since I am wearing clothes when I leave (usually), that means I have three pairs of pants, four t-shirts, some sort of extra layer, 9 pairs of socks and six pairs of underwear. If I am traveling for more than a week, all or parts of this can be easily washed. Yay! I am not averse to wearing the same thing a few days (or a month) in a row. I go out for lunch, do a good bit of walking places as I don't need to worry that mom has fallen down or anything. Out to dinner too again, and more pubbing. I do enjoy just sitting in a pub, most times.
Day Three - Off into the wild blue yonder! Woo hoo! Freedom! I can go anywhere, do anything! (Well within reason - sadly financial concerns need to be taken into account) And I am not as young as I once was, so extreme sports are most likely out of the realm of likelihood. Since my flight leaves from NYC, I impose a smidge on the kindness of relatives and head to Kingston, NY. I get there after lunch, head to one of the local pubs and relax. Dinner with Ernst and Betty. Out again to explore a bit after dinner.
Day Four - E&B help me get to the train to get into NYC to catch my flight. Where am I going? Someplace else. Doesn't really matter. Someplace new-ish to me, most definitely. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy going to places I have been before. There is always more to experience and explore. I also, though, love going to places I have never been. Am I going to cruise - not opposed to cruising - take a guided tour - I have done this at least once and enjoyed it - go someplace and rent a car and toodle around on my own - possibly. All I know is that for days five through sixteen, I will be someplace far removed from Geneva and my mom-sibilities.
Days 5 - 16 - Travel and explore and experience and unfold. Will mom be in my mind (and heart)? Sure. Will I call every day? I don't know. Part of me says that I could do that, part of me says that I don't want to. Which will win out? Maybe some happy medium - every other day? Maybe once every three days? How often is often enough? Will she completely forget me while I am away? Who knows? I will send a postcard or two for sure. And take lots of pictures.
Day 17 - Back to NYC and then Kingston. Start to unwind from the trip.
Day 18 - Visit someone or someplace not too far from Kingston. Using Kingston as my home base for one more day.
Day 19 - Back to Geneva. Yes, I feel the weight begin to descend upon my shoulders just a bit.
Day 20 - Head off somewhere for a massage and one more full day of no mom-sibilities.
Day 21 - Back to the house, wake up, know that tomorrow all the mom-sibilities will be mine once again. Pass through the day, starting to get my ducks in a row - figuring out what the next few days will look like. Planning dinners, shopping, Smith time, mom time, me time - oops, that come out fifth on the list. Hmm.
Day 22 - Get up and check on mom...
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Run Augustus Run
I liked that movie - Run Lola Run - didn't love it, but thought it was interesting at least. I think. From what I recall.
I like feeling like I am running every day. That isn't fun. And that is how I have felt all week. Ick. I mean, I am not exhausting myself or anything. It isn't like I am up at dawn (ok, sometimes I wake before the sun is up, but I generally go back to sleep after puttering for an hour or so on the internet) and then go, go, go all day. This is what was happening: wake up, putter for a little on the computer, get up, check on mom, go to the Smith - work for two hours getting some stuff done, not accomplishing all I wanted to accomplish, head home - make lunch, clean the kitchen, eat lunch, check on mom a few times, sit and check email and suddenly it is 2 and I head back to The Smith - work for a couple of hours, which sometimes turned into three hours - come back, check on mom, head to the grocery store (I love fresh groceries) - return home - sit for a few minutes - checking email (usually fruitlessly in terms of who I would like to hear from but usually some last minute stuff for the Smith) - cook dinner - snarf dinner and head to the Smith to show a film. Get home, check on mom, and eventually unwind enough to sleep comfortably.
Today (Saturday) I was planning on relaxing until I had to head into the Smith. Though I must admit, I am thinking of heading in and working on the Slide show a bit - I have a couple of things to add and want to add a couple of new Smith/Graphic slides that are going to take some work. But we had snow today, from what I can see from my bed through the bedroom window, we had a decent amount of what looks like pretty heavy snow, which means a modicum of shoveling is in order - and car cleaning off...oh, and bills to pay and mom to check on...Sigh. Run, Augustus, Run! (Or am I Forrest...)
I like feeling like I am running every day. That isn't fun. And that is how I have felt all week. Ick. I mean, I am not exhausting myself or anything. It isn't like I am up at dawn (ok, sometimes I wake before the sun is up, but I generally go back to sleep after puttering for an hour or so on the internet) and then go, go, go all day. This is what was happening: wake up, putter for a little on the computer, get up, check on mom, go to the Smith - work for two hours getting some stuff done, not accomplishing all I wanted to accomplish, head home - make lunch, clean the kitchen, eat lunch, check on mom a few times, sit and check email and suddenly it is 2 and I head back to The Smith - work for a couple of hours, which sometimes turned into three hours - come back, check on mom, head to the grocery store (I love fresh groceries) - return home - sit for a few minutes - checking email (usually fruitlessly in terms of who I would like to hear from but usually some last minute stuff for the Smith) - cook dinner - snarf dinner and head to the Smith to show a film. Get home, check on mom, and eventually unwind enough to sleep comfortably.
Today (Saturday) I was planning on relaxing until I had to head into the Smith. Though I must admit, I am thinking of heading in and working on the Slide show a bit - I have a couple of things to add and want to add a couple of new Smith/Graphic slides that are going to take some work. But we had snow today, from what I can see from my bed through the bedroom window, we had a decent amount of what looks like pretty heavy snow, which means a modicum of shoveling is in order - and car cleaning off...oh, and bills to pay and mom to check on...Sigh. Run, Augustus, Run! (Or am I Forrest...)
Monday, January 13, 2014
Mom seems to be deteriorating
My mom seems to be deteriorating, which really isn't that big a shock. I mean, Alzheimer's (and most dementias?) are diseases that just continue to go from bad to worse. It just is a constant shock that this is really happening to mom and to us. Sigh.
I am thinking of posting in the memory people group on Facebook to ask them about one of mom's current behaviors, even though I know that each person's trajectory and experience is unique. In mom's case, she has taken to sleeping with her overhead light on. I, for one, hate overhead lights, much preferring light from the side. Anyway, this can't be the best thing for her. But what can I do? I have, many times, gotten up at some point in the night and turned the light off, only to wake up an hour later and find it back on again. Sigh. One person suggested that I put in lower watt light bulbs. I might have to try that. Oh, and mom complains that her eyes hurt - could it be from squinting in her sleep and staring at the light when she is awake? Those are my guesses/intuitive thoughts. Anyway, I just can't think that it is good for her to sleep with the overhead light on and don't know what to do about it.
A clearer sign of her deterioration is the further erosion of her memory. This one, though, is kinda funny. For the past 10 years at least, mom has been going to the same hair stylist here in Geneva. We went and used the last of the money that Ernst and Betty and Juliet and Paul were gracious enough to give mom for beauty type pampering to give mom the whole schmoo - toes, fingers and hair. Mom seemed happy enough when I got her home. Now, though, she is irate (sporadically) about how "that woman""chopped" her "hair off!" Sigh. Hopefully she will eventually get over this tragic hair debacle. At least she is over her cold. Her appetite has diminished, which is a little on the scary side. I am using her diet as a sort of litmus test to her overall well being.
I am thinking of posting in the memory people group on Facebook to ask them about one of mom's current behaviors, even though I know that each person's trajectory and experience is unique. In mom's case, she has taken to sleeping with her overhead light on. I, for one, hate overhead lights, much preferring light from the side. Anyway, this can't be the best thing for her. But what can I do? I have, many times, gotten up at some point in the night and turned the light off, only to wake up an hour later and find it back on again. Sigh. One person suggested that I put in lower watt light bulbs. I might have to try that. Oh, and mom complains that her eyes hurt - could it be from squinting in her sleep and staring at the light when she is awake? Those are my guesses/intuitive thoughts. Anyway, I just can't think that it is good for her to sleep with the overhead light on and don't know what to do about it.
A clearer sign of her deterioration is the further erosion of her memory. This one, though, is kinda funny. For the past 10 years at least, mom has been going to the same hair stylist here in Geneva. We went and used the last of the money that Ernst and Betty and Juliet and Paul were gracious enough to give mom for beauty type pampering to give mom the whole schmoo - toes, fingers and hair. Mom seemed happy enough when I got her home. Now, though, she is irate (sporadically) about how "that woman""chopped" her "hair off!" Sigh. Hopefully she will eventually get over this tragic hair debacle. At least she is over her cold. Her appetite has diminished, which is a little on the scary side. I am using her diet as a sort of litmus test to her overall well being.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
I think I have lost my silly
I think I have lost my silly. Not completely. But mostly. I hope I will get it back again. As I hope I will get my travel on again one day. But back to the silly.
For some reason, I don't find myself yearning to jump in a pile of leaves, splash in a puddle, make snow angels, jump on a bed, take pictures in a photobooth making faces - that sort of thing. Silly string holds no shelf space in my life.
This is not to say that I am not still young(ish) at heart. I still enjoy playing games of all kinds, finding little things that interest me for hours (well, at least a few minutes). I enjoy rainbows and sunsets (still like them more than sunrises, I wonder what that is about) and like imaginary worlds of all shapes, sizes and flavors. I still like to play.
Can silliness be brought out in someone? I think so. Like all things, in my world philosophy, silly is a choice. That being said, silly often breeds silly.
Maybe I have just misplaced it. Or perhaps I am just being silly.
For some reason, I don't find myself yearning to jump in a pile of leaves, splash in a puddle, make snow angels, jump on a bed, take pictures in a photobooth making faces - that sort of thing. Silly string holds no shelf space in my life.
This is not to say that I am not still young(ish) at heart. I still enjoy playing games of all kinds, finding little things that interest me for hours (well, at least a few minutes). I enjoy rainbows and sunsets (still like them more than sunrises, I wonder what that is about) and like imaginary worlds of all shapes, sizes and flavors. I still like to play.
Can silliness be brought out in someone? I think so. Like all things, in my world philosophy, silly is a choice. That being said, silly often breeds silly.
Maybe I have just misplaced it. Or perhaps I am just being silly.
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