I’m still in Mineral and my dad is about to paint the porch. It’s supposed to get up to 90 today. Dad was born in 1926. The guy had a pacemaker put in not that long ago. He’s also blind. This is the damndest plan.
But I am clueless how to derail the train. When dad makes up his mind, he’s a genuine force of nature. I guess I’ll just get the long sleeves off him and hope for the best.
I fed apples to two deer and three fawns this morning. They come right up to the house. The lake reflects the trees with only a slight breeze ruffling the west shore into tiny waves, tiny flashes of light.
I can’t draw slips out of my jar, now thousands of miles away, so I guess I’ll just journal. Readers, have you had a parent who was an unstoppable force with a short fuse? Have you had to try to figure out what to do with porch plans?
Funny coincidence. I’ve got 2 guys repairing the collapsed deck here in Ronald. Dogs are not happy with the 2 strange men banging away at the back of their house. Bark, bark, bark. I’m ducking out to the car show in Roslyn. Hopefully, they’ll be finished by the time I’m back.
Hope you get to enjoy the lake today. Your brother is on a mission to spend as much time swimming as possible. Wish I was there too.
Wish you were here. Swimming and Spiffys have happened, as well as the Eatonville Market. The porch is mostly scraped. Sorry about the bark, bark.
My parents live in a house with bathroom and bedroom upstairs and laundry in basement. My 83-year-old mother topples over just standing in one place. She outweighs my 87-year-old dad by about 100 pounds. She falls and can’t get up. He, with a heart condition, struggles to get her vertical. I’m trying to convince them that a single-floor living space now is much preferable to a nursing home AFTER the debilitating fall, but it falls on deaf ears. (Actually, the hearing aids seem limited, so much falls on deaf ears.) I’m considering building something reasonable and safe in their backyard and luring them into it slowly with cookie crumbs (for my mom; dad will follow her). Once they’re safely ensconced, I can have the thing stealthily moved to a location midway between me and my sisters. When they come out and notice the change, I’ll just say, “Yeah, you moved two months ago. Don’t you remember?” My mom doubts herself anyway and my dad’s pride won’t let him admit he doesn’t remember — so done deal! Whatcha think? It could work.
And the problem is you can’t fix things. My folks tell me they are fine. My mom climbs the stairs to make beds for her grandchildren. My dad carries endless laundry to the basement. I have been trying to get the damn bathtub replaced with a shower. Somehow this never gets on the schedule.