TALES OUT OF SCHOOL

I'M NEVER SURE what's okay to tell and what isn't. My purpose isn't to betray confidences and I try not to include anything that would embarrass the subject. Once in a while, I look out over one of our public rooms and am overwhelmed by a feeling of love.......a fierce love for those of us in our collective family here at the Manor........yes, even the ones with whom I don't resonate. The loveable, the unloveable, the complainers, the beams of sunshine. Human nature shows all around, perhaps the more so in the elderly.

Midge has a piano in her room and hopes that no one hears her practice.

Dot, at the left, is from the East Coast originally. She's as avant-garde as anyone here.
Helen and her Baptist minister husband, Rudy; Helen had a stroke back in the 80s and is one of the most cheerful people at the Manor.

Darling Glenys who claims to feel physically awful 100% of the time but always has a smile and a caring for others.

MaryMil, our newest resident, is a delight and is thrilled with the food served here. 

Ernestine, to the left, is the Residents' secretary and Evelyn is the organizer of the group of wise women known as "The Crones". Ernestine is a Crone, too.

Lola is about as big as a minute. She loves opera on the radio and once when told by a male resident to turn the volume down told him, "No and you can just get used to it."

Helen, to the right, is scheduled for cataract surgery a week from today. 

All of these pictures were taken last night at our monthly birthday dinner. Here Diana, Sona and Verjik sing in celebration.

Lucky us! It was gooooooood!

MEET THE DOCTOR

THE TIME HAD COME to meet the doctor yesterday, the one who's in charge of Mr. Bob's radiation program. I have a great fear of medical men. So when I end up responding favorably to a doctor it's a very good sign.

 And Dr. Andrew Suen passed the test.

He was extremely personable, friendly, eager to answer any and all questions (even ones pertaining to my condition). What a relief!

The nurse, Sylvia, was equally attentive and when I enquired about her family, told me that 3 years ago she had been bedridden for 8 solid months with a mystery illness, with her son in the next bedroom with a broken leg and a husband out of work, but she overcame her back problems and one just doesn't know, does one, what other people weather in the way of challenging life situations?

 The day previous I had gone in to meet the doctor but important phone calls prevented him from seeing us. It had been a struggle to get my tired body into the waiting room from my usual place parked at the curb (taking pictures of passersby) and I tried to hide my disappointment at the need to do it all over again the next day. Sylvia was so empathic and solicitous, even holding the door open for us as we left that I went to the car and had a complete meltdown for no apparent reason at all. Out of the blue, I found myself out of control. I tell you this only because it would be wrong to appear that we're sailing through all this in an unflappable manner. We aren't. We have our moments, but it had been a long time since I'd cried without being able to stop. 


I maneuvered us home and then had to sit in the parking lot for an hour trying to get on top of the emotion and to Mr. Bob's credit, he stayed at my side even though I urged him to go ahead to our room.


Yesterday I told Sylvia it might be better not to be nice to me. And I met the doctor and I liked him and everything became rosy again.




“Tears are words the heart can't express”

READERSHIP DOWN

REMEMBER THE BOOK, "Watership Down"? For some reason the only title I could think of for today's entry is "Readership Down" for my guess is that many of our followers resolved not to waste time on reading our ramblings on line this new year. I don't think of myself as a particularly competitive person, but since I have access to the statistics, I find myself trying to beat previous performances whether I intend to or not. 

For instance I can tell how many times an entry has been visited in the last week (month or day, also) and it's been running nearly half less since the first of the year. I know the most devoted of you are still following us because your comments prove so, and what erudite people you are.......the comments usually being more interesting than the piece itself, definitely worth going back to read.

And one of the wonders of modern technology is that I can even tell where the readers are. In the past week:
1008       United States
38           Great Britain
13           Chile 
6             Spain
6             Russia
4             Canada
4             India
4             Norway
3             Australia
2             Indonesia.


I can only assume that most of them were stumbled upon by mistake, but Russia has shown rather consistently which is a great mystery. India? Chile, which is a recent showing? One never knows.


I know our news these days isn't quite as dramatic as it was a few months ago, or it probably is, but we've just gotten used to it. At any rate, I'm forever grateful for your keeping in touch and I'm open to any and all suggestions for making our web log more interesting. 


                         Love,
                             Jane & Mr. Bob

TO MARKET, TO MARKET

TWO THINGS about me........I'm lazy and I'm acquisitive. When I saunter out on my own, by the time I arrive back home I have to telephone Mr. Bob to come help me carry stuff up to our room. Having to use a cane makes it all the harder, just getting everything juggled into the right hand and proper grip. Truly, it requires a talent I've yet to develop. 


Yesterday morning was one of those ventures....Mr. Bob went off to his radiation appointment and I headed for a doctor's appointment. In my weakened state, it's a marvel I got parked and managed to maneuver the tortuous path from the car to the waiting room. When I was through I felt so pleased with myself that I drove into Trader Joe's parking lot feeling that if God wanted me to test my weakened wings further there'd be a Disabled parking space and there it was, right next to the front door to the market. I sat and watched customers come and go for a bit and then planned my attack. If I hobbled into the store and kept going to the far wall, I'd be in front of the tangerine juice which was my reason for being there. Carefully, carefully, slowly but surely......mind my step......made it! They only had half gallons so that filled one hand, the other being needed for the cane. Then, shopper that I am, I let my eye survey the area in which I found myself. Oh, look! The cereal we've not had for a while........Maple Nut Clusters. Shamble across the aisle, put down the jug of juice, reach high for the box, tuck it under my elbow, reach down for the juice and wend my way to the nearest register.


Waiting my turn, I spied a perfect greeting card in a display just ahead of the register and I managed to hook one between thumb and forefinger without dropping the cereal or the liquid sunshine that I consider tangerine juice to be.


Quite a feat, really and it took two telephone calls, leaving a message and a text before I reached Mr. Bob to ask him to meet me in the parking lot for help. I'll not be good widow material if and when the time comes. 


As I sit and wait for Mr. Bob's radiation treatment each morning, I see lots of people who have been to the market which is several blocks down the road. 

I'm surprised at the number of people who carry bags (but rarely in combination with a cane).

A few people, very few, have discovered the joys of a market basket. 

Those are the folks I identify with. And I'd like to think they're not lazy, just smart.

"Efficiency is intelligent laziness."  
                                                ~David Dunham

A BIT OF ENGLAND

THERE'S SOMETHING NEW in our neighborhood. We live in a quiet, residential area, but all of a sudden round-abouts have appeared in at least three intersections I've seen so far. My guess is that it's an attempt to tame some of the wild young drivers that speed through the area, especially after dark, in a sort of audible testosterone display. Some of the sounds are quite scary as the revved up engines roar and the brakes squeal through the quiet of the night, especially when I've parked our car on the street overnight to avoid a long walk to the parking lot the next morning. Wait long enough and the drivers grow up and leave the area to the next generation of hot-rodders.

When Tim and I went out on Sunday, even he couldn't resist going round 'n round 'n round just for the fun of it, so I can only imagine what creative, mischievous young folks might do. I'll be watching to see if flowers are planted in the centers and if not, I might have to take a stroll with some wildflower seeds.

It's put me in mind of our trip to England with Mr. Bob at the wheel of the rented car where roundabouts proved to be a challenge. One of my vivid memories is Christopher's low, calm voice saying,  as we circled, "Dad, we're approaching our off-ramp again.....take it easy." We laughed a lot on that trip, mostly at poor Mr. B's expense. I remember tootling along through the city of York on a street closed to traffic and Chris saying, "Hold perfectly still, pretend we're mannequins and we're being delivered." to avoid the embarrassment of being observed by all those pedestrians.

And the night at dinner when a relaxed Mr. Bob observed that he'd finally gotten the hang of driving on the opposite side of the road and the way he stiffened immediately when Chris warned him that he'd have to unlearn it when we returned home.


I sat in the back seat with three maps spread out around me and saw more of the printed page than the scenery outside the window as I tried to give directions in a strange country. Another time I would take 2 magnets to mark the place from which I lifted my eyes so that I could readily resume map reading instead of searching among new-to-me town names to find my spot. And I would get one of those "L" signs to put in the rear window to signify that the driver was a Learner, but the truth of the matter is I'm sure we won't be driving through England again in our lifetime, so I pass along my experience to you to use as you see fit. I hope you get to go.

A roundabout is the name for a road junction in which traffic moves in one direction around a central island. The word dates from the early 20th century.

PS re OWEN

I NEGLECTED to include the line that prompted me to write about Owen and his little "This is a joke" placard. After I made it, he commented that people would think he was a protester. How does a 4 year old even know that word???


A picture came from Chris after they were safely back home. Owen had requested at bedtime that his Dad make him all cozy and this was the result. 

Thanks for indulging this Granny.

GOODBYE, OWEN!

BEFORE THE NORTHERN CALIFORNIA contingent left, I fashioned a sign for Owen to hold up when he was telling a joke......sort of a rudimentary applause meter so that folks would know when to laugh when he was delivering his four year old witticisms. I don't know if it'll ever be used but he humored me enough to take it on home with him.

Packed up and ready to leave, down the hall they trudged, 

waited at the elevator,

down the road to their car,

G'bye, love. Come again soon!

"The prospect of going home is very appealing."David Ginola