Tag Archive | writing

Centenarian Tests Nerves

Oct3

Mom’s caregiver Karen who used to come for an hour a day, five days a week, has taken time off, likely with no hope of her returning. So now I have to find someone in a terrible hurry, and decided to just go with Interior Health, which we’d wanted to do originally. However when mom found out she’d get a different person each day she balked, and that’s why we went with Karen.

But now at 100.5 years of age, and with a very diminished mental capacity and zero physical stamina, I think she’ll just have to accept the revolving caregivers, right? It’ll be a lot of fun actually, because with just Karen and Jan mom couldn’t tell them apart or know which one was which. So add five care aides per week, and throw Jan in for fun in the afternoons, and look out.

I’m busy trying to market my memoir and am going to have to learn Instagram and use it. At first I thought I’d have to do it all on the teensy weensy cell phone, but luckily it can be done on my sainted laptop, where all creative things are made. Margaret set Instagram up for me on my phone, and the icons that came up were so small I needed not just glasses but a magnifying glass to see them. I realized this wasn’t going to work at all.

So now I’ll have to consult with my friend ChatGPT to figure out how to post on Instagram. I imagine myself as minor film director skulking around my house and yard for fitting reels. Then sneaking up on pets with my camera capturing them doing adorable things. Given my memoir is about food, I suppose the odd baking demo might be fun.

I’ve sold a dozen copies of my book, and am hoping this continues, reaching a crescendo in November when people shop for Christmas presents. The book is about fruitcake after all, so what could fit in better than that? I plan to make some of my Totally Decadent fruitcakes and pair those with a copy of the memoir for marketing purposes.

It’s still sunny and warm, blue sky without a hint of clouds and the garden is beautiful. I have to get outside and rake as living within a ponderosa pine forest one has a lot of needles to contend with. Nicky planted a chestnut 30 years ago and this tree’s now huge and sheds approximately one ton of chestnuts per year. All onto the driveway which has to be raked and swept for hours.

I spent $75 on very chi chi cheese at the Grate Cheesery here in Kelowna, as Margaret was coming and we were headed to Osoyoos for lunch with Denis, Luke and Mom. I made chicken souvlaki, Greek salad and roasted potatoes, so for dessert had the cheeses and grapes. I’ve never spent that much money on cheese in my life but it felt really good to do it. Freeing.

Yesterday I had some of this fancy cheese around, so I made a gourmet macaroni and cheese dish with them. I’ve never done this before, but you put the uncooked macaroni, cheese and whipping cream plus milk into the oven for 45 minutes and voila, very creamy baked mac and cheese. And then made with the decadent cheeses it was mighty good.

Trevor’s coming today to complete the re-recordings for the audiobook, and I’ll give him the leftovers because at around 1000 calories per serving a dish like that isn’t really good for me. It’s good for him, though, as he’s normal sized, actually quite thin.

Mom continues to eat at least three Ritter Sport chocolate bars a day and has no desire whatsoever to rein that in. And really, why would she when she’s in her 101st year?

The Care and Feeding of Mom

Aug22

It’s difficult taking care of someone who’s 100 and a half, and who’s basically crazy as a result of it. The other day mom phoned at 5:30 PM and said “Get me a doctor, I need help. Call anyone.” I said “Do you want me to call the ambulance?” and she said, “Yes, call anyone, I need help.” So I quickly called Luke and got him and Jan to head right over and told them to let me know what happened.

Half an hour later I got an e mail from Jan saying “Gramma was mad. She was out of wine, so Luke had to go to town to get it.”  Those are the typical kinds of emergencies I have to deal with. Often she calls saying “My phone isn’t working”, to which I explain it likely is, given she’s speaking to me on it.

Mom’s got macular degeneration and is almost blind as a result, so when I say I would prefer to clean a public toilet outside of a market in Thailand to hers, you get the idea. But one thing she can see no problem is food, and she has a voracious appetite. The other night she had two helpings of lasagne followed by a large bowl of peach clafoutis for dessert.

Often by 10:00 AM she’s nibbling on chocolate and drinking wine with it. I guess when you’re that age it’s pointless to pay attention to the time of day. In fact, mom will call and ask what time it is, and when I say 9:00, she says, “In the morning??” to which I calmly reply, “uh huh.”

Next week I’m going to start recording my book, Nuttier than a Fruitcake, so that I’m ready for all versions to go onto Amazon by mid September. I’m going to enter a reader’s choice contest which has a deadline for the end of that month, so I’m cutting it kind of close, but I’ll get it done because I have a good feeling about that contest.

We’re in the midst of another heat wave so I’m watering like mad, and I can see the results of it on my electricity bill. My well is powered by electricity, and with the irrigation system running three times a week all night long that takes a lot of juice. First you pay for the well, then you pay for the power to run it so the water’s not exactly free. But I still love having my own water source.

Hence for the next seven days I believe this is all I can do: water and work toward my book’s completion. Trevor, my illustrator’s coming on Monday with the recording equipment, so I have to get serious and stop fooling around.

Elsa’s going to be in Vancouver so that should cut down on thrift store shopping, and as I don’t usually go on my own, that’ll free up some of my time. I often marvel at how I worked, had a husband and kids, a yard and garden, and now I can barely do the few things I have on my list in a day.

I also won’t be returning to Osoyoos for a couple of weeks, which will help as I find my nerves are pretty much shot while I’m there, and then it takes a day to recuperate from it when I get home. Mom’s conversations are often puzzles. She says “Jan comes in and washes the dishes, then sits down and talks to me and I can’t understand a word she says. I wish she would talk first, then do the dishes.”

I reply, “But what difference does it make if she does the dishes first and talks second when you can’t understand her anyway?” To which she replies emphatically, “Exactly, it makes no difference.”