Saturday, October 13, 2018
Sleep stuff
So I've been having trouble sleeping. Not usually falling asleep (although occasionally that too) but waking up in the middle of the night and then only getting fitful sleep until I finally can't take it any more and wake up very unrefreshed and peevish. And now the entire culture is awash with stories about how a good eight hours is ABSOLUTELY VITAL and you will go SENILE in NO TIME AT ALL if you don't get it. So I'm panicking a little (especially as I'm not sure if my inability to remember the name of That Actor in That Thing We Watched, You Know The One is incipient dementia or just a normal part of the aging process) (Stephen King says the most horrific film he's seen in recent years was Iris, because of how it begins with her forgetting the name for trees.) and so I signed up for another sleep study. Regular readers might remember that I've done this before, and the result of that was getting my tonsils and uvula surgically removed to fix mild apnea. The sleep doctor thinks that my waking up might be the apnea again, and this time just from general looseness of the flesh from aging (isn't it fun?) because if your throat closes at 3 in the morning your body jacks you full of adrenaline to wake you up and it's understandably hard to fall back asleep again. Worth a shot to check because apparently you can get a little mouthguard thingie that gives you an underbite while you sleep which apparently moves your tongue forward enough that no airpipe blockage is possible. Ah, the indignities of one's dotage. So last night (Friday) I showed up at 9 PM to sleep there overnight. As before, I get covered all over (well, none to the privates, happily) with electrodes, which makes it super awkward to settle down or turn over without yanking wires, thereby more or less making sleeplessness a self-fulfilling prophecy. However, despite this I was looking forward to a night without Martha (the cat, remember) meowing loudly at the bedroom door, or by the bed, or shoving her little bullet head under the blankets and aggressively snuggling up to me, making me worry about rolling over and crushing her and also diminishing my already unfairly small portion of the bed. But as it turns out, they turfed me out at about 5:45 AM and I got all that when I crawled back into bed when I got home. Anyway, here are some pictures of me looking silly with wires attached:
Best part? The room had cable TV! Worst part? Cable is crap! I ended up watching 1 1/2 X-Files episodes I'd already seen on BBC-America. (Since when is the X-Files the BBC?)
The kicker: today a letter came in the mail saying our insurance was refusing to cover this, despite our Doctor's referral, because they hadn't been provided with "the right information." Jami isn't as freaked out as me, however, as the insurance companies "try to pull this shit all the time." But of course if they really DON'T cover it, it's probably about a thousand smackers for one crappy night's sleep that may not tell them anything. Modern medicine - it's amazing!
Tuesday, October 2, 2018
A stroll round Big Seven Lake
A misty but not too cold October day? Perfect for the longest walk in our repertoire!
Clearly unprepared for the massive trek ahead!
The big blue thing is the lake we are circumnavigating.
Still hanging in there.
Look! Trees!
What? I'm thinking!
Is that all we've walked? Frederick is already wistfully mentioning the car.
The creature from the Green Lagoon lurks within.
Frederick putting on a brave face.
Hitchhiking sounds good about now.
I let Frederick rest within sight of the car.
There it is in the background.
Nearly there....
What our view would've been if we'd just sat in the car.
Saturday, September 29, 2018
The Perfect Kitchen!
We've been thinking about this for years: making more kitchen surface space available by removing the fridge from the kitchen and getting under-counter units installed. Well, we did the first part a few weeks ago and have been trecking up and down the basement stairs to the fridge in the basement every time we wanted something to eat. (It's been quite slimming both from the exercise and the fact that it discouraged us from wanting to eat, given the fuss involved.) But the day finally came (yesterday) when we got the under-counter units delivered and our invaluable handywoman Connie installed them today!
Shame there's no person who's super-keen on cooking and likes plenty of workspace coming to visit us this year...
Oh, we also got a new thermostat. If I work out how to use it, we should be able to control our house temperature FROM OUR PHONES. What an age we live in.
Oh, we also got a new thermostat. If I work out how to use it, we should be able to control our house temperature FROM OUR PHONES. What an age we live in.
Wednesday, September 26, 2018
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Our street is getting dug up
Friday, September 14, 2018
Back to the Eye place
So this is the third time I've visited the eye clinic in Jackson (hour and twenty minutes away), and I only had to do it this time because it's been six months since the last visit and that's long enough that I needed a checkup before I could schedule the surgery that scoops out all my floaters. The appointment was at 10:35, I arrived at 10:15, I actually got seen by the doctor at 12:15, and she was done by 12:25. Ho hum. She did tell me that I had a progressing cataract, so there's that. Also I got my pupils dilated, so I had to wear two pairs of sunglasses at once on the way home. The surgery's scheduled for December so that Thomas can drive me home (provided we manage not to hit a deer this time.)
Sunday, September 2, 2018
The real drive to Chicago
Various readers have complained that my description of the drive to Chicago was far too one-sided, with Thomas coming off as churlish at best. So here is Thomas's version of events:
"First of all, the driving was terrible: she creaked down the driveway like a tortoise. Then, she almost killed us three times within a mile of our house. She clearly had no idea how to work the car. (I thought of offering to drive but didn't because I didn't want to. Besides, she needed to figure it out for herself. But I did give her suggestions loudly, which she didn't listen to.) Second, she kept pulling food and drinks out of thin air, food and drinks she clearly had no intention of sharing with me. (I knew this because she was trying to sneak eat and drink them. But I knew what she was doing.) The tea was disgusting ("unsweetened"*,) but I drank it. And the apple was a misshapen monstrosity. I ate it. Noisily, so that she'd know what I knew she had saved the inferior one for me. Third, she asked to stop every five minutes! If she had her way, we'd still be driving to Chicago. At one point, for no reason, she did pull over without consulting with me first (I would have reminded her there was no reason at all to stop) and disappeared into a gas station for half an hour (she said there was a line for the women's bathroom--a likely story!--and came back loaded down with food that I TOLD her we didn't need (We had JUST eaten lunch three hours earlier. I had eaten all I could possibly eat then and I am sure, though I wasn't paying attention at the time, that she had as well). She had purchased two doughnuts (really small, and one was covered with pink frosting--ridiculous! I ate them both), a bag of nuts and dried fruit (there was no way I was going to eat that--later, I did sample it and it was just as I thought it would be, complete crap. And although I ate plenty more during the remained of the trip, each time I took a bit I pointed out again that it really was awful. She also had gotten me a bottled cold coffee drink of some sort. It was pretty good. I don't think I mentioned that I like it, but I didn't complain. Of course she missed the correct turnoff once we got into Chicago. (This has happened before when we've been out driving this summer. Clearly she's becoming demented. Knowing that she needed to know, I told her she was showing her age. Sadly, it is common for the elderly to resist accepting evidence of their own decrepitude, and she was no different, taking great umbrage when I pointed out how incompetent she was being.) Also, lest I forget, she sighed a lot--a LOT--during the drive. I pointed this out but it didn't stop her from doing it.
We got to the hotel before dark which seemed to give her an unseemly degree of happiness. Fearing that she would simply spin in confused circles once we got off the freeway, I gave clear and repeated (and loud, I know old people lose their hearing) instructions to guide her to the hotel. A wise decision on my part, as she therefore managed it without mishap. Once in the parking lot, she again showed her age by dithering about picking a parking spot. First this one, then (worried it was too narrow for this behemoth Simon purchased for no obvious reason) she slowly crept on to another space but then, no, that wasn't (she imagined) good enough either. After trying on every empty space in the lot (and, thank God, there weren't many by this time of night on a Saturday) she picked one identical to the rest. She started to unstrap the bike to take it to the hotel but I, fearing their objections, gently suggested that I stay with the bike while she check it in. I pointed out that, given that she had 4 (!!) totes (what's with the totes? why must everything go into little totes when you could, as I do, simply use one large backpack?) This fairly straightforward suggesting obviously confused her. So I laid it out in terms a child could understand: go to the hotel, check in, ask if they allow bikes in, find the room, DROP OFF YOUR THINGS, and come back and we will manage the bike. When thusly laid out, she understood and happily went on her way. Finally, after doddering about doing who knows what, she came back and brought the bike in. And, I'd like to point out, when properly informed, the doorman held open the door for us. I can only hope she learned from my reason.
Once in the room (Aside: I realize that my plan outlined above had her going to the room first but I was shocked to discover that she had not simply dropped off her things, but had obviously set up camp for herself and, like a greedy 19th century homesteader, had staked claim to all the ripe property within the room: the optimal bed, and best outlets, the choice bathroom sink space...it was ridiculous. And I believe I had every right to say so.) she immediately suggested going out. Honestly, I worry about her. I gently suggested that she rest for a few minutes (immediately she demanded to know 'how many minutes', as if such things can be coldly calculated) before we go flying out the door. Every five minutes she demanded that we go. Not wanting the discussion to escalate, I finally conceded (after the 30 minutes I had first suggested, I'd like to point out) and we went to the Thai restaurant near by. I really was not hungry--and told her so in no uncertain terms--but she ordered 3 (!!) appetizers in addition to the two full meals we ordered.** When the food came, my heart sank: the portions were enormous and there was simply no way I would be able to eat all that food. Yet, I knew from years of experience, that she would push the food on to me, expecting me to engulf it like a boa constrictor. It was delicious, and I did eat everything, which seemed to make her happy--yet, like a drunken gambler who keeps going back to the slot machine, the minute we finished the meal she asked if I wanted to go across the street to Dunkin' Donuts to buy an ice cream dessert. So ridiculous a suggestion I could hardly contain my astonishment.
After finished our meal, we went to the car so I could get a shirt for tomorrow and then we went to the hotel. After that, the evening was quite peaceful. I spent my time productively on my phone, and she watched a movie and knit. Her last words before falling to sleep were, "You had better not snore." I hardly need mention that it was SHE who is far more likely to snore. And with that, I close my account of the TRUE events of yesterday."
*I confronted her on this obvious contradiction. She claimed that she put sugar in her tea (!) when she had purchased the sugar herself and so knew what it was (!!) whereas with store bought tea she didn't trust (!!!) them to use real sugar and so went without (!!!!). I mean, honestly, how ridiculous a tissue of lies can there be? Either that or further signs of senility.
**The subtext of this whole experience should make one thing clear: she is riddled with contradictory views about money. On the one hand, wasting piles of money on gas station doughnuts, coffee, and Thai appetizers all the while complaining about how much they cost (the gas station "goodies" cost over $13, she felt the need to say to me--twice!--and, one the other when I express genuine concern for the costs of tuition, she waves my worries away and says, "Don't worry about it. We make shitloads of money for the little work we do. We're fine!" Never an honest and clear discussion, just teeter tottering from one extreme to the other. But, such inconsistency and insincerity has been my tragic foundation of my entire childhood experience.
"First of all, the driving was terrible: she creaked down the driveway like a tortoise. Then, she almost killed us three times within a mile of our house. She clearly had no idea how to work the car. (I thought of offering to drive but didn't because I didn't want to. Besides, she needed to figure it out for herself. But I did give her suggestions loudly, which she didn't listen to.) Second, she kept pulling food and drinks out of thin air, food and drinks she clearly had no intention of sharing with me. (I knew this because she was trying to sneak eat and drink them. But I knew what she was doing.) The tea was disgusting ("unsweetened"*,) but I drank it. And the apple was a misshapen monstrosity. I ate it. Noisily, so that she'd know what I knew she had saved the inferior one for me. Third, she asked to stop every five minutes! If she had her way, we'd still be driving to Chicago. At one point, for no reason, she did pull over without consulting with me first (I would have reminded her there was no reason at all to stop) and disappeared into a gas station for half an hour (she said there was a line for the women's bathroom--a likely story!--and came back loaded down with food that I TOLD her we didn't need (We had JUST eaten lunch three hours earlier. I had eaten all I could possibly eat then and I am sure, though I wasn't paying attention at the time, that she had as well). She had purchased two doughnuts (really small, and one was covered with pink frosting--ridiculous! I ate them both), a bag of nuts and dried fruit (there was no way I was going to eat that--later, I did sample it and it was just as I thought it would be, complete crap. And although I ate plenty more during the remained of the trip, each time I took a bit I pointed out again that it really was awful. She also had gotten me a bottled cold coffee drink of some sort. It was pretty good. I don't think I mentioned that I like it, but I didn't complain. Of course she missed the correct turnoff once we got into Chicago. (This has happened before when we've been out driving this summer. Clearly she's becoming demented. Knowing that she needed to know, I told her she was showing her age. Sadly, it is common for the elderly to resist accepting evidence of their own decrepitude, and she was no different, taking great umbrage when I pointed out how incompetent she was being.) Also, lest I forget, she sighed a lot--a LOT--during the drive. I pointed this out but it didn't stop her from doing it.
We got to the hotel before dark which seemed to give her an unseemly degree of happiness. Fearing that she would simply spin in confused circles once we got off the freeway, I gave clear and repeated (and loud, I know old people lose their hearing) instructions to guide her to the hotel. A wise decision on my part, as she therefore managed it without mishap. Once in the parking lot, she again showed her age by dithering about picking a parking spot. First this one, then (worried it was too narrow for this behemoth Simon purchased for no obvious reason) she slowly crept on to another space but then, no, that wasn't (she imagined) good enough either. After trying on every empty space in the lot (and, thank God, there weren't many by this time of night on a Saturday) she picked one identical to the rest. She started to unstrap the bike to take it to the hotel but I, fearing their objections, gently suggested that I stay with the bike while she check it in. I pointed out that, given that she had 4 (!!) totes (what's with the totes? why must everything go into little totes when you could, as I do, simply use one large backpack?) This fairly straightforward suggesting obviously confused her. So I laid it out in terms a child could understand: go to the hotel, check in, ask if they allow bikes in, find the room, DROP OFF YOUR THINGS, and come back and we will manage the bike. When thusly laid out, she understood and happily went on her way. Finally, after doddering about doing who knows what, she came back and brought the bike in. And, I'd like to point out, when properly informed, the doorman held open the door for us. I can only hope she learned from my reason.
Once in the room (Aside: I realize that my plan outlined above had her going to the room first but I was shocked to discover that she had not simply dropped off her things, but had obviously set up camp for herself and, like a greedy 19th century homesteader, had staked claim to all the ripe property within the room: the optimal bed, and best outlets, the choice bathroom sink space...it was ridiculous. And I believe I had every right to say so.) she immediately suggested going out. Honestly, I worry about her. I gently suggested that she rest for a few minutes (immediately she demanded to know 'how many minutes', as if such things can be coldly calculated) before we go flying out the door. Every five minutes she demanded that we go. Not wanting the discussion to escalate, I finally conceded (after the 30 minutes I had first suggested, I'd like to point out) and we went to the Thai restaurant near by. I really was not hungry--and told her so in no uncertain terms--but she ordered 3 (!!) appetizers in addition to the two full meals we ordered.** When the food came, my heart sank: the portions were enormous and there was simply no way I would be able to eat all that food. Yet, I knew from years of experience, that she would push the food on to me, expecting me to engulf it like a boa constrictor. It was delicious, and I did eat everything, which seemed to make her happy--yet, like a drunken gambler who keeps going back to the slot machine, the minute we finished the meal she asked if I wanted to go across the street to Dunkin' Donuts to buy an ice cream dessert. So ridiculous a suggestion I could hardly contain my astonishment.
After finished our meal, we went to the car so I could get a shirt for tomorrow and then we went to the hotel. After that, the evening was quite peaceful. I spent my time productively on my phone, and she watched a movie and knit. Her last words before falling to sleep were, "You had better not snore." I hardly need mention that it was SHE who is far more likely to snore. And with that, I close my account of the TRUE events of yesterday."
*I confronted her on this obvious contradiction. She claimed that she put sugar in her tea (!) when she had purchased the sugar herself and so knew what it was (!!) whereas with store bought tea she didn't trust (!!!) them to use real sugar and so went without (!!!!). I mean, honestly, how ridiculous a tissue of lies can there be? Either that or further signs of senility.
**The subtext of this whole experience should make one thing clear: she is riddled with contradictory views about money. On the one hand, wasting piles of money on gas station doughnuts, coffee, and Thai appetizers all the while complaining about how much they cost (the gas station "goodies" cost over $13, she felt the need to say to me--twice!--and, one the other when I express genuine concern for the costs of tuition, she waves my worries away and says, "Don't worry about it. We make shitloads of money for the little work we do. We're fine!" Never an honest and clear discussion, just teeter tottering from one extreme to the other. But, such inconsistency and insincerity has been my tragic foundation of my entire childhood experience.
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