When her dinnertime arrived, I left, as she always goes right to sleep immediately after dinner. I went to her apartment and spent the evening finishing a summer scarf I've been knitting.
I've heard my whole life about the elderly becoming like babies again—the cycle of life—but this is my first time observing it. I just keep remembering what Ridley was like three or four years ago, and treating Mother the same way. It works!
In physical therapy, they got her to stand three times and move the right leg. The rest of the day I kept encouraging her to exercise that right thigh muscle. She wants out of the rehab facility, so my brothers and sister-in-law and I keep reminding her that to move back to her apartment, or be able to go up to the mountain cottage, she's got to be able to walk again. They should be sufficient motivation!
That afternoon, she beat me at two games. I let her go first each time, and you'll never guess what her opening word on the first game was: "sex"! The old gal still has it.
Wednesday morning as I was stepping into the shower at Mother's apartment, the fire alarm sounded, and I had to find my pajamas and robe again and walk down to the dining hall, where I stood for 15 minutes while being scrutinized by all the residents. Gee, that was fun! Then back to the apartment to get ready to leave.
I stopped by the nursing home again to visit Mother for a few minutes, let her talk to Jim on the phone, and again encourage her to exercise that right thigh muscle. Then I started driving.
On the road again, I always stop in Johnson City, TN, at the Panera for a treat. Then I stop at Tamarack in WV to walk around the building filled with beautiful handcrafts. I fondled some handcrafted pottery mugs, but resisted temptation, Then I didn't resist temptation and ate peach cobbler from the fabulous Greenbrier chefs for lunch. Heading on up the road, I realized I would be rolling past Akron while my salon was still open, so called. My stylist agreed to stay a half-hour late for me, give me my summer cut, and save me a two-hour drive today!
After a little shopping and pampering in Akron, I got home around 9:30.
My state of mind? Exhaustion!!
When I arrived home, I heard classical music playing. I used to always leave the local NPR station on for the cats whenever I left home, but the Jazzman is religious about turning things off. I couldn't imagine that he had left a radio on.
I walked around the house trying to find the origin of the sound. Finally I stuck my head into the basement and realized that's where it was coming from. I walked down the stairs and realized there was music on in my sewing room. Last weekend an electrician came to give me some power sources so I could run my sewing machines without stretching a 25' extension cord across the basement. When I turned on the light for the sewing room, straight ahead of me was a hand-lettered sign, attached to the wall with blue painters' tape, that said, "Happy Birthday Jan. JH♥JC"
The Jazzman had bought five new light fixtures and installed them over my cutting table and the location for my sewing machine. For the first time in two years, I'll be able to see what I'm doing. I'll be able to see black thread on black fabric without holding it two inches from my eyes. It's a bleeping miracle!!
Say it with me now: Whattaguy!!!
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