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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Feb 10, 2011 8:21:50 GMT -5
*Sigh* I just got guiltwhacked. Aged Mum wishes that "I were free-er to visit more than once a month" because she's having trouble with the grocery shopping. She's paying obscene amounts for full-time care, and the daytime caregiver's car doesn't work properly, so they never go out. Gah. I made several suggestions, ranging from calling Ralphs to see if they deliver, her paying for a rental car for a day, and her telling Ratbag and Useless to get off their fat arses and help out once a month like we do. I also asked about her best friend who lives nearby, could she visit with Emma while the caregiver goes shopping? Oh, best friend has offered to do the shopping for her. So why the are you guilt-tripping me about the marketing then, I did not ask. Okay. I said that whenever we have a visit planned, if she gives me a list the day before, we can go shopping before we hit the road. Also the caregiver can do the marketing while we're there, which she usually does. And, I said, she should take her best friend up on her offer. The sad fact is that, as usual, Aged Mum wants me there waiting on her hand and foot, and she expects to get what she wants without asking, and nothing else will do. Sorry, that's no longer an option. Anne, with extra growling This is a lesson in active listening and one guiltwhacking that didn't work! Bravo for you in passing the class! The old Anne would have been on the road and not found out until she got there that Mom actually DID have alternatives. But you listened and began asking questions. Go you! Now, about the caregiver with the wonky car. If she doesn't have wheels how is she getting to the Aged Mom? If she can't take the AM out, why isn't her agency finding a caregiver who can? These are more questions that can be asked with no more bother than calling the agency (which is a nuisance, but better than spending hours on the road needlessly). This person is very proud of Mommy Anne today. I've already talked to the caregiver about the car (or she's talked to me); it's undependable, and she's concerned about getting stranded with my mom in the car. She is working on replacement, as it's to the point where repairs are not really worth the trouble, but money is an issue (as it always is). So they have to depend on Good Neighbor Mike, or Emma's best friend, or whoever else they can talk to, or in an emergency, use the caregiver's car and hope for the best. Part of the problem is that Aged Mum doesn't want to go out, and she's manufacturing extra excuses for staying stuck on the couch. Caregiver Y and I keep trying to get her to go out in the yard and look at the garden, which Y's son has been bringing back under control. So far, no luck, but we're working on it. This is the good caregiver, the one who was with my mom when my dad died, and nobody wants to replace her, especially Aged Mum. Mommy Anne loves little Diane too.
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Feb 10, 2011 9:10:36 GMT -5
It's Going To Be One of Those Days. I just got the next lessons of my two overlapping online classes. Himself says he "might come home early, he doesn't know for sure, but he might". Elder Daughter was swanning about last night saying that she doesn't feel well and might have to stay home today, boo hoo. I can't work with them underfoot, especially as Emily, if she stays home, will insist on using the computer at her convenience and demanding complete silence for her important... whatever it is she does on the computer. Read blogs, mostly. Yes, I tell her to put on the headphones, but she's very good at passive-aggressive annoyance, and sometimes it's easier to just run away. Tomorrow Emily has no classes, so she'll be underfoot and hinting that it'd be really nice if she had the house all to herself for a few hours so she can work on her important homework (ie, get lost, mom, your breathing is interfering with my thought processes). I never plan anything that requires concentration on Fridays. This is my last day to do anything major on either class, and it looks like I'm not even going to get that. Online classes was supposed to be my special fun thing, because I don't have a social life. Right now, it isn't.
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Feb 10, 2011 10:32:45 GMT -5
It's Going To Be One of Those Days. I just got the next lessons of my two overlapping online classes. Himself says he "might come home early, he doesn't know for sure, but he might". Elder Daughter was swanning about last night saying that she doesn't feel well and might have to stay home today, boo hoo. I can't work with them underfoot, especially as Emily, if she stays home, will insist on using the computer at her convenience and demanding complete silence for her important... whatever it is she does on the computer. Read blogs, mostly. Yes, I tell her to put on the headphones, but she's very good at passive-aggressive annoyance, and sometimes it's easier to just run away. Tomorrow Emily has no classes, so she'll be underfoot and hinting that it'd be really nice if she had the house all to herself for a few hours so she can work on her important homework (ie, get lost, mom, your breathing is interfering with my thought processes). I never plan anything that requires concentration on Fridays. This is my last day to do anything major on either class, and it looks like I'm not even going to get that. Online classes was supposed to be my special fun thing, because I don't have a social life. Right now, it isn't. Daughter wants house to herself, give it to her. Tell her that in exchange you want X chores completed when you get home. Then go shop some neat stores or get a pedicure. Get home when you're ready and see if chores are done. If they aren't then the next time she wants the house to herself you can't go because you're BUSY. Or come paint in the Three Year Old Corner. We've got some neat new water colors.
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Feb 10, 2011 10:45:19 GMT -5
It's Going To Be One of Those Days. I just got the next lessons of my two overlapping online classes. Himself says he "might come home early, he doesn't know for sure, but he might". Elder Daughter was swanning about last night saying that she doesn't feel well and might have to stay home today, boo hoo. I can't work with them underfoot, especially as Emily, if she stays home, will insist on using the computer at her convenience and demanding complete silence for her important... whatever it is she does on the computer. Read blogs, mostly. Yes, I tell her to put on the headphones, but she's very good at passive-aggressive annoyance, and sometimes it's easier to just run away. Tomorrow Emily has no classes, so she'll be underfoot and hinting that it'd be really nice if she had the house all to herself for a few hours so she can work on her important homework (ie, get lost, mom, your breathing is interfering with my thought processes). I never plan anything that requires concentration on Fridays. This is my last day to do anything major on either class, and it looks like I'm not even going to get that. Online classes was supposed to be my special fun thing, because I don't have a social life. Right now, it isn't. Daughter wants house to herself, give it to her. Tell her that in exchange you want X chores completed when you get home. Then go shop some neat stores or get a pedicure. Get home when you're ready and see if chores are done. If they aren't then the next time she wants the house to herself you can't go because you're BUSY. Or come paint in the Three Year Old Corner. We've got some neat new water colors. That's what I usually do on Fridays - I leave her to do the laundry, I run errands. I just don't know what's going on today - she hasn't got up yet, she usually doesn't get up until 8 because she doesn't leave until after 9, and I have no idea what's up with Paul, he could waltz in any time after noon, or not, depending on what's up at work and how he feels. I'm making a list of what I think I can accomplish on the classes, minimum I want to get done, and a much longer list of stuff I have to do today, like get the trash out and clean out the refrigerator and get the bills in the mail (regular Thursday stuff). And I think I've got the cold too, but of course I don't get sick time off. Grrrrr. ETA: Went walkies. Elder Daughter says she feels much better, she'll be leaving in twenty minutes or so. I'm going to tackle the long list of have-tos for today, then print off my new lessons while I work on my sampler. Later I may do some more pottering around reorganising in my little room, because I can work on that even if Himself comes home at lunchtime, and I want to put some of the pincushion collection away so I can put other things on that display shelf. Not enough space, why can't it be transdimensional?
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Post by Julia, wrought iron-y on Feb 10, 2011 12:50:34 GMT -5
I have once again experienced a mysterious coat-hanger die off/migration/transmogrification to old rusty bent wire hangers. Having just read Good Omens I suspect this is in the same set of phenomena as cassette tapes left in a car for six months becoming "Queen's Greatest Hits" Julia, this will complicate the disposition of the two sweater dresses currently in the washer. Oops. The mathematics of houses: Coat hangers multiply. Socks divide. Diane *wondering where one of her warm winter fuzzy chenille socks went this time*The thing is, I actually have a pretty good track record with socks, except for that subset of knee-highs called "trouser socks" of which, at any time more than a month after I buy new ones I always have two, one of which is shorter and ribbed and the other has a hole in the toe. I buy the new-fangled flat flocked hangers, because they keep my clothes from sliding off and becoming part of the closet-floor ecology. I assiduously throw out wire hangers and those horrible brittle clear acrylic ones that clothing stores try to give you when you shop. And yet, I will suddenly and for no apparent reason be out of flat flocked hangers when it comes time to drip-dry my shirts, and when I scour the house for more I find inumberable twisted rusty tangled up wire hangers, and any number of cracked acryic ones, all of which I put in a garbage bag and cary to the trash. I would buy flat flocked hangers from Costco, where they are $14.99 for fifty (the cost of five the first time I bought them, three years ago when I was trying to wrangle some dresses which did not stay on any kind of regular hangers and on which clothes pins made horrid marks). However, my experience in these matters makes me cautious; I once bought twelve pairs of silver-toe cotton socks from Sears, thinking that I would have sufficient socks for the warm parts of the year, and give up being feminine and stylish. Franklin immediately stole the white and khaki ones, (4) even though they were two inches too short for his size twelve feet; the denim blue ones (2) had the strange habit of hiding when I put together a load of socks, and the oatmeal ones had a strange liminality in that I would wash them and roll them and put them away and they would transfer themselves directly to the laundry basket without being worn. Then there were the black and navy blue, which I would carefully pair up in strong light and put away on opposite sides of the drawer and yet, every time, when I was out in public, especially buying shoes, I would discover I was wearing one navy blue and one black sock. I suspect I'm doomed. It is also true that I am way over-invested in these things; keeping my closet in order (sorted by color, although not in rainbow order, which would be a bit much) and my socks neat is the only way I can exert control over an environment otherwise reduced to maximum entropy by the R-gene bearers among us. Julia, steadfastlly applying the "not my problem" transform to the pile of clean towels in the living room.
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Post by SpringSummers on Feb 10, 2011 13:14:58 GMT -5
Another quick hi! Spent last night cleaning out the old piano - Vince used to use it, but no one does now. It is an enormous old (1909!) upright Baldwin that is in decent shape (needs cleaning, tuning, some minor key repair). So I am thinking of giving it away to whomever will take responsibility for getting it out of here. What did I find INSIDE the piano, strategically placed so as not to interfer with playing? PENNIES. Vince truly thought of everything in trying to keep us safe from his demons. I think I got all the pennies. If there are more and they shift when the piano moves, could be a problem. Not my problem, of course . . .
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Post by S'ewing S'cubie on Feb 10, 2011 13:39:38 GMT -5
The mathematics of houses: Coat hangers multiply. Socks divide. Diane *wondering where one of her warm winter fuzzy chenille socks went this time*The thing is, I actually have a pretty good track record with socks, except for that subset of knee-highs called "trouser socks" of which, at any time more than a month after I buy new ones I always have two, one of which is shorter and ribbed and the other has a hole in the toe. I buy the new-fangled flat flocked hangers, because they keep my clothes from sliding off and becoming part of the closet-floor ecology. I assiduously throw out wire hangers and those horrible brittle clear acrylic ones that clothing stores try to give you when you shop. And yet, I will suddenly and for no apparent reason be out of flat flocked hangers when it comes time to drip-dry my shirts, and when I scour the house for more I find inumberable twisted rusty tangled up wire hangers, and any number of cracked acryic ones, all of which I put in a garbage bag and cary to the trash. I would buy flat flocked hangers from Costco, where they are $14.99 for fifty (the cost of five the first time I bought them, three years ago when I was trying to wrangle some dresses which did not stay on any kind of regular hangers and on which clothes pins made horrid marks). However, my experience in these matters makes me cautious; I once bought twelve pairs of silver-toe cotton socks from Sears, thinking that I would have sufficient socks for the warm parts of the year, and give up being feminine and stylish. Franklin immediately stole the white and khaki ones, (4) even though they were two inches too short for his size twelve feet; the denim blue ones (2) had the strange habit of hiding when I put together a load of socks, and the oatmeal ones had a strange liminality in that I would wash them and roll them and put them away and they would transfer themselves directly to the laundry basket without being worn. Then there were the black and navy blue, which I would carefully pair up in strong light and put away on opposite sides of the drawer and yet, every time, when I was out in public, especially buying shoes, I would discover I was wearing one navy blue and one black sock. I suspect I'm doomed. It is also true that I am way over-invested in these things; keeping my closet in order (sorted by color, although not in rainbow order, which would be a bit much) and my socks neat is the only way I can exert control over an environment otherwise reduced to maximum entropy by the R-gene bearers among us. Julia, steadfastlly applying the "not my problem" transform to the pile of clean towels in the living room. I am having a passionate romance with my flat-flocked hangars. I not only love that things don't slip off them, but also how narrow they are. You can keep three in the space of any one of other kinds. I have a huge tub filled with the other kinds that I can't seem to get rid of. You remind me of Willow with her textbooks filled with multi-colored highlighters. If only life could be so arranged. Am familiar with the Navy/Black sock problem. In fact, I'm wearing it today. I suspect we're all doomed.
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Post by Julia, wrought iron-y on Feb 10, 2011 13:51:31 GMT -5
The thing is, I actually have a pretty good track record with socks, except for that subset of knee-highs called "trouser socks" of which, at any time more than a month after I buy new ones I always have two, one of which is shorter and ribbed and the other has a hole in the toe. I buy the new-fangled flat flocked hangers, because they keep my clothes from sliding off and becoming part of the closet-floor ecology. I assiduously throw out wire hangers and those horrible brittle clear acrylic ones that clothing stores try to give you when you shop. And yet, I will suddenly and for no apparent reason be out of flat flocked hangers when it comes time to drip-dry my shirts, and when I scour the house for more I find inumberable twisted rusty tangled up wire hangers, and any number of cracked acryic ones, all of which I put in a garbage bag and cary to the trash. I would buy flat flocked hangers from Costco, where they are $14.99 for fifty (the cost of five the first time I bought them, three years ago when I was trying to wrangle some dresses which did not stay on any kind of regular hangers and on which clothes pins made horrid marks). However, my experience in these matters makes me cautious; I once bought twelve pairs of silver-toe cotton socks from Sears, thinking that I would have sufficient socks for the warm parts of the year, and give up being feminine and stylish. Franklin immediately stole the white and khaki ones, (4) even though they were two inches too short for his size twelve feet; the denim blue ones (2) had the strange habit of hiding when I put together a load of socks, and the oatmeal ones had a strange liminality in that I would wash them and roll them and put them away and they would transfer themselves directly to the laundry basket without being worn. Then there were the black and navy blue, which I would carefully pair up in strong light and put away on opposite sides of the drawer and yet, every time, when I was out in public, especially buying shoes, I would discover I was wearing one navy blue and one black sock. I suspect I'm doomed. It is also true that I am way over-invested in these things; keeping my closet in order (sorted by color, although not in rainbow order, which would be a bit much) and my socks neat is the only way I can exert control over an environment otherwise reduced to maximum entropy by the R-gene bearers among us. Julia, steadfastlly applying the "not my problem" transform to the pile of clean towels in the living room. I am having a passionate romance with my flat-flocked hangars. I not only love that things don't slip off them, but also how narrow they are. You can keep three in the space of any one of other kinds. I have a huge tub filled with the other kinds that I can't seem to get rid of. You remind me of Willow with her textbooks filled with multi-colored highlighters. If only life could be so arranged. Am familiar with the Navy/Black sock problem. In fact, I'm wearing it today. I suspect we're all doomed. The flatness is a great good thing; I have a discipline accorded white cotton and linen shirts: when they get dingey, they are downgraded to summer work shirt, since I am prone to break out in hives from sun exposure. I wear them until they get holes, and then rip them into paint rags. I often end up wearing more than one white shirt a day in summer: laundry and gardening need different shirts, and sometimes Things Happen (spilling fish fertilizer on myself, for one not unusual occurence) that entail a shower and a third shirt. Currently I have three good white shirts and about two dozen less than wonderful ones, and the flat hangers keep them in about 18 inches of closet rod. It may well be that I need to buy a couple new rod mounts to take a bit of the extra load, however. Julia, the last shirt that went to rags was older than Anna; it's like tha magic of compound interest!
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Post by Queen E on Feb 10, 2011 14:09:07 GMT -5
Sue: Got the package! Thanks so much; you wrapped it so carefully.
Sorry I've not been around much; just finished editing the bibliography (the devil's annoying work, that); I've got to mail the whole thing next week, so please please keep a good thought for me. If I don't get it right this time, well...then no Dr. Me.
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Feb 10, 2011 14:40:44 GMT -5
Erin, I have and toes crossed for your magnificent and total success. Today is not going as well as I might have hoped. The good news is that (a) Emily went to school and (b) since Paul hasn't come home yet, he may have decided to stay at work for the rest of the day. The bad news is that while I managed to watch the episode of Torchwood I hastily recorded yesterday when Paul came home early (I'd been planning to use it as needlework background), I spent the entirety of it trying to find a 33¢ error in the checkbook. Which I did, eventually; I wrote the wrong amount for a transaction, so it was, as usual, My Fault. And now I have a stuffy head and a pounding headache. Grrr Argh. At least most of the "have-to" list is checked off. Pity I can't say as much for the "want-tos".
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Post by Sue on Feb 10, 2011 15:00:55 GMT -5
Another quick hi! Spent last night cleaning out the old piano - Vince used to use it, but no one does now. It is an enormous old (1909!) upright Baldwin that is in decent shape (needs cleaning, tuning, some minor key repair). So I am thinking of giving it away to whomever will take responsibility for getting it out of here. What did I find INSIDE the piano, strategically placed so as not to interfer with playing? PENNIES. Vince truly thought of everything in trying to keep us safe from his demons. I think I got all the pennies. If there are more and they shift when the piano moves, could be a problem. Not my problem, of course . . . I hope you keep finding pennies in odd and out of the way locations. We have an old pump organ from the late 1800s. Hasn't been played in at least 30 years, maybe more. Estimate to repair is several thousand dollars. Jim doesn't way to spend that but he doesn't want to give away a "family heirloom" either. Biggest tchotchke in the house.
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Post by Sue on Feb 10, 2011 15:02:22 GMT -5
Sue: Got the package! Thanks so much; you wrapped it so carefully. Sorry I've not been around much; just finished editing the bibliography (the devil's annoying work, that); I've got to mail the whole thing next week, so please please keep a good thought for me. If I don't get it right this time, well...then no Dr. Me. You are in my thoughts and prayers and vibes: it's a trifecta!
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Post by Sue on Feb 10, 2011 15:05:56 GMT -5
Erin, I have and toes crossed for your magnificent and total success. Today is not going as well as I might have hoped. The good news is that (a) Emily went to school and (b) since Paul hasn't come home yet, he may have decided to stay at work for the rest of the day. The bad news is that while I managed to watch the episode of Torchwood I hastily recorded yesterday when Paul came home early (I'd been planning to use it as needlework background), I spent the entirety of it trying to find a 33¢ error in the checkbook. Which I did, eventually; I wrote the wrong amount for a transaction, so it was, as usual, My Fault. And now I have a stuffy head and a pounding headache. Grrr Argh. At least most of the "have-to" list is checked off. Pity I can't say as much for the "want-tos". While I find myself increasing "OCD" (in quotes because not clinically, just silly stuff like straightening stuff and organizing stuff) I find I am still, thankfully, able to balance my checkbook for any error under $10.00 but writing "error" on the next line and recording the addition or subtraction necessary to make it work. It is entirely clear to me that those of us who actually balance checkbooks are dinosaurs and an expiring species. My kids rarely even know where their checkbooks are. Everything is done electronically and they mostly just assume that the balances are always correct. It would take a pretty large error to get them to look more closely.
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Post by Anne, Old S'cubie Cat on Feb 10, 2011 15:28:22 GMT -5
Erin, I have and toes crossed for your magnificent and total success. Today is not going as well as I might have hoped. The good news is that (a) Emily went to school and (b) since Paul hasn't come home yet, he may have decided to stay at work for the rest of the day. The bad news is that while I managed to watch the episode of Torchwood I hastily recorded yesterday when Paul came home early (I'd been planning to use it as needlework background), I spent the entirety of it trying to find a 33¢ error in the checkbook. Which I did, eventually; I wrote the wrong amount for a transaction, so it was, as usual, My Fault. And now I have a stuffy head and a pounding headache. Grrr Argh. At least most of the "have-to" list is checked off. Pity I can't say as much for the "want-tos". While I find myself increasing "OCD" (in quotes because not clinically, just silly stuff like straightening stuff and organizing stuff) I find I am still, thankfully, able to balance my checkbook for any error under $10.00 but writing "error" on the next line and recording the addition or subtraction necessary to make it work.It is entirely clear to me that those of us who actually balance checkbooks are dinosaurs and an expiring species. My kids rarely even know where their checkbooks are. Everything is done electronically and they mostly just assume that the balances are always correct. It would take a pretty large error to get them to look more closely. I've tried that, but I just can't let it go until I've tracked down the error, however long that takes. It's a thing. Respect the thing. I also keep my mother's checkbook balanced and up to date, and that's much, much worse - she and her caregivers take turns writing down the check numbers and amounts, and they're all over the place, and never in the same and/or right columns. I print the last month of her online statement before we visit, so I can add in her social security and so forth. Then she gets annoyed because I meanly and cruelly refuse to pay attention to her while I'm trying to sort out that month's mess. I mean, I should be able to juggle at least sixteen things at once, right? Bad daughter, as usual.
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Post by Queen E on Feb 10, 2011 16:00:04 GMT -5
Erin, I have and toes crossed for your magnificent and total success. Today is not going as well as I might have hoped. The good news is that (a) Emily went to school and (b) since Paul hasn't come home yet, he may have decided to stay at work for the rest of the day. The bad news is that while I managed to watch the episode of Torchwood I hastily recorded yesterday when Paul came home early (I'd been planning to use it as needlework background), I spent the entirety of it trying to find a 33¢ error in the checkbook. Which I did, eventually; I wrote the wrong amount for a transaction, so it was, as usual, My Fault. And now I have a stuffy head and a pounding headache. Grrr Argh. At least most of the "have-to" list is checked off. Pity I can't say as much for the "want-tos". Thanks, sweetie. And for a challenging day.
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