The Burrow

It's the uncertainties that trap me.  Will the staff at the pod-castle be able to transfer G'ma from the bed to the commode or the wheelchair?  Will the side rails hold her on the mattress or will she decide to get up on her own?  Will the bed alarm and the floor alarm be enough to alert the aides that G'ma is on the move? I don't do well with the open ended nature of things.  I like to have a goal.  I do quite well when I'm directing myself and know what to expect. That's not usually a problem; I've organized my retirement life to make certain that's the usual plan. Then, G'ma collapses in the bathroom, puts her foot up by her ear, disrupts her carefully calibrated medication plan, and all hell breaks loose. Little Cuter and SIR left for their honeymoon this morning; I was glad to be able to send them off without worries. The crisis has passed, the current situation is fluid but manageable, and there's a plan in place to move G'ma back t...

It's been so long since I've updated the sidebar, I'm tempted to remove it all and give my posts more space on the page. I think I have the Kindle to blame. It feels like screen time more than reading; I zip through thrillers and mysteries, sometimes two in a day. I've set the font and brightness to large and shiny which translates to far fewer words on the page than I'm used to in a real book. I'm constantly swiping the screen, pulling up the next set of words. I never know what page I am on, because the pagination changes along with the font size. I've been reading Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose for months; I'm 78% of the way through. That is a much less satisfying bit of information than I'd have if I were reading it on paper with a proper binding and could sense how close I was to the end by feeling the pages left in my right hand. But, with the Kindle the text is always available to me, on my phone, on the Kindle itself, in...

G'ma fell.  She doesn't remember how or why but her screams brought the aides to the bathroom at 5am on Sunday. My phone rang ten minutes later; I knew it wasn't going to be good news as soon as I saw the time.  No one calls to share happiness before the sun rises. The EMT met me in the courtyard; the gate is locked and the code is outside and he was stuck within.  We laughed about it and then, looking altogether too serious, he asked me if I was squeamish.  There was the second indication that everything was not all right. Her leg was broken. The sole of her foot was next to her ear. It took ten milligrams of morphine to sedate her enough to move her from the floor to the gurney.  I stayed out of the way, in the living room of the pod castle, sparing myself the sight, heeding my family's warnings to be sure to take care of myself, too.  By the time we met up at the hospital, they'd reduced the fracture (medical speak for putting her leg back in the dir...

A couple of the girl cousins were out by the pool, whispering.  It was too hot for anyone else to be out there, listening to their conversations, but that didn't seem to matter.  Their heads were together and their voices were directed only to one another. Three of the boy cousins were on the sleigh bed in the living room.  The blankets were tossed aside as they sat on the front edge, feet dangling, eyes focused on the electronic gaming device on the middle one's lap.  To call them engrossed would be to understate the situation. Her sister-in-law reintroduced herself, apologizing for not remembering names. Twenty minutes later, we were finished sharing stories of similarly embarrassing moments.  When her husband approached us, we could only laugh.  TBG and I needed help to say hello. Her best friend - and no, I'm not insulted that she owns the designation - brought a daughter and a grandchild and the smiles that accompany a two year old and a sm...

I think that recycling this Memorial Day post has officially become a tradition. Here it is, again, updated for 2013.   Happy Three Day Weekend, denizens!! ***** I used to march in the Memorial Day parade. I was dressed in my Brownie uniform, and then in my Girl Scout uniform - replete with those hated anklets. I wore them because they said you couldn't march without them and marching was too cool to pass up, but the shame............ All the school bands marched too, and Benjamin Road provided the materials and the labor to make the capes the high school kids wore. There must have been a military presence there, but I didn't pay enough attention to notice. I was marching and I knew that, all over America, other kids were being Americans and marching, too. It was great. In Marin, the Memorial Day parade was always good for a  controversy  or two. Or three. Should the anti-war protesters walk alphabetically in the main march, or have their own march...

GRandparentsINresidence  was at work last week. Prince Elementary School's teachers hosted the annual Spring Carnival, and we were there to help.  Debbie and Donna did popcorn (no racy allusions to movies gone by, please), and Sherri and Bobbie (who escaped my camera's lens) did nachos, and high school seniors sold our wares. They are seniors at Amhpi High School One's joining the navy. The other plans to become a doctor. Watching them hawk our goodies proved that they can do anything. The teachers had much too much fun spinning sugar for cotton candy and the kids had fun watching them. There were impromptu picnics on the planters and on the ground. There were big brothers and little sisters and there were smiles  lots and  lots   of smiles. The best part of the afternoon came at the end, when Debbie, who joined GRIN after hearing about it over lunch at the Literary Society Luncheon last wi...

Little Cuter and I had the most marvelously mundane conversation this afternoon.  We talked about everything and nothing and mostly we just heard each other's voices.  It only served to amplify the good feeling I'd carried around all day.  Home from San Francisco, with love from my boy surrounding my heart, I awoke to find the irrigation system had sprung only one leak.  I admired the patches I'd applied last week, and went inside before 8am; it's summer in the desert and no one is doing anything (unpaid) outdoors after that. I had the mail held until today's delivery, so there were no unpaid, unopened, annoying envelopes on the counter.  I connected an old friend with a new friend and felt renewed hope that things may really change for the better. I sent a contribution to Mayors Against Illegal Guns and laughed about me sending money to Michael Bloomberg.  Pilates was strengthening and the vibration machine at PT had me just-about-gliding across the gy...

The plan was to have boys.  Only boys.  Girls and I did not get along.  I didn't understand them.   Then, I got the flu.  I also got pregnant.  I got morning sickness, congested nasal passages, and insomnia.   I also got my little girl. If there were two items of clothing which matched, up the stairs she ran to change one of them. Tender-headed, she refused to put a brush or a comb through her hair... which she also refused to cut.  Hair in her eyes made Daddy nutty, so she agreed to headbands and colorful clips. Bangs were never an option; they take too long to grow out.  I chose my battles in those days. She went happily uncombed to pre-school and I didn't care. It's not that I was all that talented in the tonsorial department, anyway. She really wasn't missing very much. She learned to accept a compliment with grace when she was three.  It was a means of protecting herself from unwanted attention to just how cute she wa...

It comes upon us all of a sudden. One day you're wearing short sleeves and crew socks with your sneakers.  You roll down your car window and listen to the beat of the bass from the Jeep beside you.  The breeze blows your hair into your eyes as you stroll down the driveway to retrieve the morning paper. The air feels warm and smells of spring. The ground squirrels are out in full force, the babies frolicking on the paddles of the prickly pear cacti. Up and over they go, three of them, faster than the larger one (Mom, perhaps?) watching from the edge of their den.  Carefully, one jumps onto a low lying branch of a palo verde.  There are sharp thorns on those branches, but he doesn't seem to mind.  He's creeping, belly low to the wood, nibbling on the teeny leaves trying to bloom.  I can't stop staring. The quail have hatched, and Mom and Dad are walking the little ones across the street. It's a residential neighborhood, with no access to anywhere but th...

That's almost an oxymoron.  We awoke in Tiburon, and there was no fog.  We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge and there was no fog.  We picked up Big Cuter and drove to the Marina and there was no fog.  I began to wonder if I was really in Baghdad by the Bay.  Remember Mark Twain's "the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco"?  Saturday put the lie to that.  Big time.   We sat at the Marina, on a bench looking out   at Marin in the distance and the Yacht Club   and the Golden Gate Bridge.  The old light house is a reminder that we are not the first people to watch ships enter the Bay.  They might have seen this building,  or this building, built after the Great Fire,  but probably not this 1950's modern.  It's a ritzy neighborhood, with golden doors but it is San Francisco, so politics is everywhere. These signs were in all the windows faci...

It comes in waves.  The change is not steady, it is not predictable, it is uncertain.  Just when I think that I've made a break-through, that I will be pain-free and fluid-of-gait, I wake up the next morning to find my muscles locked and my hip laughing at my plans. It makes keeping a smile on my face more of a challenge some days than others. Between the pool and the vibration platform and the tender ministrations of my PT and my pilates instructors, I had a great day yesterday.  I was able to distribute my weight evenly on my feet, left to right, front to back.  After being reassured that the first few steps were less important than the overall quality of the walk itself, I gave up my disgust at the hitch-in-my-gitty-up as I rose from the couch.  Concentrating on getting the synovial fluid moving in and around my joint, I circled my hip in the socket, rocked back and forth, and strode out. It felt great.  I pushed off my right foot as my leg found i...

Almost everyone at Prince Elementary School eats the lunch that's provided by the cafeteria.   As the construction on campus proceeds, the offerings become less creative, although the uses to which they are put continue to amaze.  Yes, that is apple sauce being eaten -???- through a straw.                                         There are quasi-healthy alternatives, of course. Mostly, the boxed lunches involve packaging.  I heard my mother's voice emerging from my lips as I admonished this poor child.   "Don't use your teeth!!" sounded much harsher than I'd intended, I'm afraid. I never realized that a small, peeled, baby carrot  would be frightening  even when your friend is right by your side.   She tried it.... with attitude... but she tried it  and she kept her eyes open.  Some were tentative...