Monday, February 17, 2014

This morning, as ever, I worked to get Lucy down the stairs. She is so fearful, being partially blind, that she does not bound down any more. I stand at the bottom of the stairs to coax her. I go up again to pet her and assure her that everything will be fine. Valentino does his usual—up, down, up, down—trying to get Lucy to move from the top step and begin the descent. I often let him out the kitchen door first in the hopes that she will hear the door and will follow. Alas, her hearing is going, too.

Post Doggie Breakfast—

They have had their breakfast and Lucy is beside me in the office. Val is guarding the house against intruders, passers-by, squirrels, other dogs, and school buses from the living room window seat. Every now and again, he lets out a grunt and often breaks into a full bark when the occasion calls for it. This gets me running in to shush him. An invitation to join me in the office brings him running. Little sweetheart is so obedient. Doesn’t he remember that I will close the office door and keep him with me until mom wakes up? He’s no dummy. He knows. He likes being with Lucy and me.

The boy across the street, however, is a dummy. The night before last past midnight, he was outside, as he often is. But this time, he was barking, trying to enrage Valentino. Fortunately, Valentino was asleep upstairs and missed the ruckus. Rob and I were the only ones who heard him. This boy is the neighborhood skateboarder. A real nuisance. While I once applauded his exercising and taking up a sport instead of sitting at a computer all day (where I am now), I abhor his skateboarding in front of the house. Valentino hates the sound of the skateboard. We have tried desensitizing him, but Val is stubborn. I begin to see that it might not be the skateboard, but the boy (going on 18 at least, possibly in his 20s and not very productive from what I see) himself. I think his bravado in the wee hours of the morning was uncalled for. I feel I am back in Trenton at time, with horns blaring and people shouting at 3:00 am with no regard for anyone else. So it goes. At least here, it’s not that often. I do long, however, for the day this boy moves away or grows up. Preferably both. (At least he cannot awaken my mother with his calls. In fact, I can vacuum in her room without disturbing her.)

My Neighbor—

My neighbor B had a shock on Saturday. Her mother, now at Rittenhouse, had what was thought a seizure or a stroke. Turned out to be hypertension. Arlene is a year younger than my mother, but not of good cheer. Was terribly difficult for B and so was the decision to put her into a nursing home after 13 years. But now B has a life, still a life of service to many, but one without the constraints and demands of a woman who never loved her. Hard to imagine not loving your only daughter, especially one as loving and as selfless as B.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

The low today was minus 1° F. But right now, the temperature has risen to a balmy 21 degrees. We are expecting more snow tomorrow night through Thursday, so I want to get out today to prevent having an extended period of cabin fever.

I picked up honey from Vic, the local beekeeper, this morning. Saw Honey again, his attack German Shepherd. Lovely dog, but you want to be in her company only when Vic is there.

Mom didn’t know I was gone, even though we spoke on the phone when I was on my way home and she asked, When will you be coming to see me? When I arrived home and Rob left the room, she asked where Rob was and wondered why she had not seen him all day. I explained that he had already given her cereal, toast, and coffee and had been with her all morning. Mom said I didn’t know who that was, even though she had said often enough, Thank you, Rob.

And now the sun is shining brightly. Mom wants to know if it’s hot outside. I tried to explain that it’s winter and it’s 21 degrees. Her reply is, Yeah, but the sun is shining. It looks so warm. There is no comprehension on any level. No sense trying to teach. No sense trying to ask her not to throw tissues or napkins in the toilet. No sense whatever. She denies doing things. She has no clue what she is doing or whom she is with or who had been with her. But Mom likes to be with someone, anyone. She doesn’t like to be alone. Unfortunately, I have to work and am often in the very next room, my office. But as often as I explain this to her, I must explain it yet again. And so I do.

Time for tea and honey!