A Field Trip With Mom

Today I went on a field trip. My mom has Alzheimer-type dementia, and lives in a nursing home near where I live. I try to spend as much time as possible with her, and since the quality of our time with her is changing, I value the chance to be with her and make memories. Our greenhouse business has limited my time with her during this season, so when the staff asked me to come along as a volunteer to go to the lake, have a picnic and try some fishing, I was thrilled.

That's my mom right behind the red walker. She preferred to stay in the shade and just enjoy the view. The walk to the dock to fish was too much for her. She enjoyed herself immensely, but since this lake, called "Long Lake" is long and narrow, she thought she was at the river near her childhood home. We saw mallard ducks and a deer, and listened to the haunting loon calls.
These two gentlemen enjoyed trying to fish. It was a treat watching the staff interact with the residents. These folks were treated with great caring and respect--their dignity was of paramount importance. We had a picnic, and everyone was happy and tired.

Rushed home to make supper for DH (henceforth to be known as Kubota Man). Explanation: About 5 years ago, we purchased a 24 HP Kubota Tractor with mower, bucket, blade, and MY rototiller, and he liked it so much that one day as we were discussing its merits, I casually mentioned that we should have got one a bit bigger (I was thinking maybe 27 HP) Next thing I knew we were the proud owners of a 70 HP model. We kept the smaller one, too. No regrets, and it gives me something more creative to call him than DH.

At 19:00 I had a CWL (Catholic Women's League) meeting in the next town.

I've also been busy fundraising. The Dementia patients don't get outside much when the weather is nice because they require 1 on 1 supervision, and the staffing isn't there for that. But, luckily, between 2 wings of the facility there is a lovely triangular, fully-enclosed courtyard with grass, a patio access to the recreational therapy room--BUT NO SHADE. I saw an opportunity, went to the supervisor and asked if this area could safely be used by dementia patients. They asked for a large roll-away awning. So I rallied Mom's family and collected nearly $1000. Then I priced the awnings: $6000. So I decided to involve my community: Churches, service clubs, and local businesses. The last resort will be a matching grant from a government agency--will match what we raise. I haven't raised all the funds yet, but am ordering the awning tomorrow--I have faith that with prayers, my efforts will be fruitful. I ask all my readers of faith to pray with me.

My garden is almost in. We've had a bit of rain--not enough. The greenhouse season is nearly over. I've begun to clean a couple of flower beds when it was too wet for the garden. The sheep enjoyed the weeds served by the Kubota. And the housework waits.

Till Next time: (from THE SHACK) Faith never knows where it is being led, but it knows and loves the One who is leading.

Wordless Wednesday IV

My own picture.

My own picture--begonias on deck rail.

Sex, AIDS and Ladybugs

I'm sure I've mentioned that I'm a retired teacher. The first half of my career was spent teaching First Grade, the second half in 6th Grade. This little anecdote really happened. This is the story as it appeared in my local paper.

Here in Alberta school ends at the end of June, but I notice on other blogs that in some jurisdicions they are finished earlier, so I feel that this is a good time to share this story.

She lowers herself onto the park bench while the little ones scurry off to play. The summer humming fills her ears and the weariness overtakes her--the exhilarating fatigue of a job well done. The end of another school year!

"Mrs. Jones, I just remembered something! You and I don't have to work next week! Can you come to my house and play with my toys? She smiles at dimple-cheeked Adam (there were several new gray hairs from that one).

Kathy and Grace, inseparable buddies, snuggle up on each side of her. Kathy speaks first, "You know, my mom and dad had sex three times."

"Oh?" the teacher asks.

"Yes, my mom told me that you have to have sex to have babies. My mom had two babies before me. Then they had me. So that means they had sex three times!" (She holds up three chubby fingers to prove the point.)

Grace, without missing a beat, adds "And you know--you get AIDS, too!"

"What do you know about AIDS, Grace?" the teacher asks.

"My mom told me you ge AIDS from kissing girls (if you're a boy). but if you always kiss the same girl, it's OK. but if you kiss lots of different girls, you get AIDS." She thinks a bit. "Know what else, Mrs. Jones?"

The teacher is afraid to ask.

"Last night my tooth got loose. Look , Kathy, a ladybug!"

The children fly and the ladybug flies. The teacher sighs with pride, for they've gained so much. And the teacher cries, silently inside, for the bit of innocence they've lost.

A bittersweet tribute to Grade One Teachers and the parents who privilege us by sharing their children with us.

Wordless Wednesday III

This picture was sent to me in an e-mail. I don't know if it is a real picture, or computer enhanced.

Friendship

A few years ago, I wrote humorous articles for our local newspaper. I just found my file, and thought my blogging friends might enjoy some of the stories--for those posts when I have no knitting to share. All the stories are based on real experiences but written with literary license.

She and I have been best friends for a long, long time. I didn't know it then, but my big family was poor, and her family was well-off. Other kids had to point it out to us, or we'd have been none the wiser.

All I remember is that it felt good to be friends. She loved to come to my house for fried chicken--at her house I gorged on Chicken Cordon Bleu. I never envied her trendy clothes because she always loved my mom's "custom made" clothes (she never said "home-made").

Whenever she got new shoes, she would scuff them up so they would look as comfortable as mine, and I learned to spit-and-polish so mine would shine just like hers.

We would gossip together long into the night, snug in the down comforter my granny made (because my friend's ultra-smooth perma-pressed 300 threads/inch sheets made her feel chilly). When we grew up, she bought a down-filled comforter, too, but now it is a duvet.

We shared everything all through school. She loved to borrow my hand-knits and I strutted in her boutique clothes. Then she became a cheerleader--but I got a part-time job. She joined the band--I learned to sew. She dated--I babysat. We both got acne and worried about our weight and about runs in our nylons--and we stayed friends.

Both of us found happiness in adulthood: She belongs to the Garden Club--I plant a big garden; she hires a cook--I love to cook; she has a private tutor for her kids--I help mine with their homework; she travels the world--I have a globe and a subscription to National Geographic. She sits on the Hospital Board--I sit in the emergency room with my kids-bored.

She still loves fried chicken and hand-knit sweaters, and we're still the best of friends.

Now as I reminisce, I think that, had we been born in different times, we would have missed each other, because we'd probably have lived on different sides of town. And besides, we had never heard of the expression: "Wrong side of the tracks".

Beauty and Confusion

Praise the Lord for beautiful sights. This picture of my Fuchsia Girl Flowering Crabapple could be a Wordless Wednesday picture, but after all the winter pictures I thought I would green up and beautify my blog. The nights are still cold, and we desperately need rain, but Nature is evolving like it should, only later. We need to have faith.

The garden is slowly being planted. Maybe today I will finish the seeds. I hate seeding, don't mind planting plants, and LOVE weeding, as long as they don't get away on me.

The greenhouse is getting emptier, we are starting to compost the plants that are past their prime. Customers are still coming steadily; because of the cold they have been cautious about planting.

Now the confusion: (This concerns me because my mom has Alzheimer-type dementia). I got up, weighed myself-- DH had already set out the dry oatmeal, the orange and the instant coffee in the cup-- ground the flaxseed for the oatmeal, added the hot water, and put the oatmeal into the breadbox (instead of the microwave). OOps. Dialled up the internet, and set up the picture to upload while I eat breakfast. Porridge was cooked (in the microwave), poured hot water into the coffee mug, added the brown sugar to my porridge, poured milk into the coffee, forgot to put milk on the porridge, Aaghhhh! Fixed that, sat down to breakfast. Normally, I do Sudoku while I eat, but today I decided to do a logic puzzle--having trouble wrapping my brain around the complicated clues. Panic!!

No.....wait......it's not early onset of Alzheimer.....it's a deficiency. A deficiency that can't be fixed by healthy eating or a supplement.....KNITTING DEFICIENCY aka KNITTING DROUGHT. I think the medical field should study that one. Too busy to do what you really love best.

Till next time: Every grandmother has a drawerful of strange crayon drawings and oddly spelled letters that she wouldn't swap for the Kohinoor diamond. (Marion G.)

Wordless Wednesday picture 2

This is my own picture.