Here I am.

Let's get in the w-a-a-a-y back machine. 1993. June I'm sure. My gorgeous son is 2 and a half years old and is spending his first night in the "big boy" bed. I wanted to keep him safe so I put a railing up to contain his bouncy little body. I kissed him and tucked him in and said all the appropriate things mommy's say to their precious babies. Then I closed his door and left him to go to sleep.

Soon thereafter he called to me.. "mommy?"
I said, through the closed door, "you stay there and go to sleep!"
seconds ticked by..
Then another quiet little "mommy."
"shhhh. Stay put!"
and again.. "but mommy."
Back and forth we went.

He never yelled, he never screamed. He just spoke quietly and calmly.

I finally got cranky and went in to get my message across in person. And there was my beautiful baby boy, hanging upside down by his pajama bottoms from the "safety" railing. Dangling head first over the precipice of his bed.

I was the worst parent on the planet at that moment. Partly because I didn't respond to his pleas for assitance - and partly because the image of him dangling there was so very funny.

I tell this story because my mom has been quietly pleading for my attention in the past week. Well - not always so quietly. But certainly just as insistantly. Today, I got quite cranky with her and hauled her up to Portland to the Doctor. The doctor immediately checked her into the hospital and said something to the affect of.. "this has been going on for how long??". Bad daughter.

I really shouldn't be allowed to take care of other living things..

Less that 600 days!

592, to be exact. Just thought I would throw that out there because, on occasion, that is the only thing that keeps me going.

What an adventure today was! I'm supposed to be going back to work now. The "company" says they need me. I suppose maybe. Anyway, the great plan was to take mom back to her place about 8:00 and show up at work at 9:00. Only two hours late.

There were two snags in my little plan.

1. Mom didn't wake up until after 8:00; and then when she DID wake up
2. She refused to go.

#2 was the big problem. She told me that she felt abandoned and wanted to go live in Texas, or wherever my brother lives (he lives in Florida) and be with someone who would actually care about her, take care of her and help her. She wanted someone she could count on.

I probably don't need to go into detail on my feelings about those statements. Not that my brother wouldn't fill all those rolls. He's utterly awesome and would SO be there for her if he didn't live 3000 miles away. My thoughts really centered around me. It's all about me, after all.

But I digress.. After an intense, long and emotional discussion she agreed to go back and CONSIDER living there. But first I took her to get her hair done (I know.. girls! The things that make them feel better!) and then I took her to lunch (Food! The universal fix for anything!). I settled her in and left her alone for two hours - as a test. She passed.

I have charged a couple lol's (little old ladies) with bringing mom into the community environment. Yeah Cinny and Barb! They promise to drag her kicking and screaming (if necessary) to bingo games, bunco games, crossword puzzle hour, music minute, wii bowling..

Now we wait to see if she is able to tolerate the night and the next few days.

Slumber Party!

This is Silverton Reservoir. It's beautiful in it's fall colors. I was there today enjoying beautiful weather and gorgeous scenery.

You see.. I made a mistake at work. About 3:00 I said to a co worker, "Only 3 more hours and I'll have worked a WHOLE day! How unusual will that be??" Shortly after my phone rang. My mom was in a panic. She was claustrophobic and wanted me to come and remove all the stuff on her walls - and her furniture - and well.. everything. I went over and whisked her away for a drive in the country. I thought for sure that would make her better. Then I bought her ice cream and a hamburger. Ice cream almost always makes ME feel better and I was raised to believe that food fixes everything. ("Here Sharon, have some cookies/cake/soup/jello/pork/potatoes. That will make your stomach ache/broken heart/fender bender/bad day/lost car keys all better!")

When I got her back to her apartment she was still unsettled. I removed all the photos that we painstakingly hung. Not good enough. I removed the TV I had Peter take over there on Sunday. Not enough. I removed the lamp and hid the plants and clock and .. well.. everything. she was still in a tizzy.

So I brought her home. I hauled Peter's bed down the stairs, set up her room for her and made her comfy. She was asleep in less than 20 minutes.

Tomorrow I will feed her a really big breakfast and add some ice cream and cookies. That'll fix it!

Halloween costume?

Guess again..

I'm sick. I have cooties. A wracking cough, stuffy nose, laryngitis, a bit of a fever even. I was all snuggled in on the couch, covered up, working at sweating away my germs.

The phone rings. The mom is in a panic - she's having chest pains and she needs her niece there. I resisted suggesting she call her (don't you think that took amazing self control?) and told her I would be right there.

Once I got there I was issued this lovely accessory. The on-call nurse and I determined that the chest pains were "normal" and that she just needed to breathe as her heart was oxygen starved. Of course Mom couldn't hear me and with the mask she couldn't read my lips so fun and games ensued.

Now I am going to reposition myself on the sofa - I wish someone was here to bring me a hot toddy!

It's a hat!

I know.. It doesn't LOOK like a hat.. but it is. Or at least it started out that way. 64 stitches wide.. just like the pattern prescribed. But as I completed rows I noticed my stitches were not a consistent tension. So I decided to turn my hat into a practice piece. The good news is that I've picked up the knitting again.

Things have been a little crazy in my house in the last week. We moved mom into an assisted living facility last Friday. My office, not satisfied with my return to normal hours, has yanked my telework priveledges, plus we have the mandatory furlough day tomorrow, my laptop died and Jill and I have cooties.

Work, cooties & laptop issues are transient and not a big deal. Mom is settling into her new place fairly well. I've gotten three or 4 phone calls from her in a panic, or semi-panic asking how to turn on the shower, how to get to the dining room, that sort of thing. I called the facility and THEY took care of her. How nice is that? Don't get me wrong - except for today I've been there at least twice a day to help her adjust. But she sure doesn't need my germs so I will keep my distance until I'm germ-free.

I heard from Korinna of The Goat King's daughter this week. She has offered to let me milk one of her goats. How cool is that? I'm thinking of making this a Sunday excursion.. but I haven't contacted them yet and don't know if they are available - it may have to wait a few weeks.

So there you are.

My little baby bird had flown the nest

I feel so bereft. I am so worried. Will Mom make friends? Will she be late for dinner/breakfast/lunch? Will she be frightened? Will she miss me? What if she needs me and I'm not there? What if she can't find the light switch? What if she can't find the bathroom? What if she get's hungry? What if she get's cold? What if she can't figure out the heater? What if she hates me for putting her in that place?

Sparky thinks all the same things. I know.. she keeps going into mom's room, looking at the room and noticing the missing stuff and then she glares at me like I'm evil.

What do you suppose she thinks? First Sophie left us. Then my son, Kyle left us. Now Mom has left us. Do you suppose she's frightened that she might be next? Poor Sparky. She seems very worried.

Not only that but do you suppose I'm just the type of person who HAS to worry? Do you suppose I'm just a nut case, following close in my mom's footsteps?

I'm getting professional help.

oh.. not THAT kind of professional help. Some day maybe, but not just yet.

My goat cheese was a success. The flavor, a bit bland. So I went out and purchased a book.. "Making Artisan Cheese"

I still have 1/2 gallon of Goat's milk in the freezer to experiment with and now I have professional help and actual recipes.

On to the "mom" front. We have a move date. Friday, October 9. We found a lovely place with a studio apartment, a view of the garden and solarium and appropriate assistance. She's already picking out what she wants to take and was ready to start moving today. I think that's a good sign. It might mean she is sick of me though. Sometimes I don't blame her.

Success!

Finally, at long last, I made goat cheese! Picture me dancing, because I am!

Yesterday we took a country drive out to The Goat King's Daughter in Willamina and purchased fresh, out of the goat, goat's milk. It's a lovely farm with goats, chickens, ducks, turkeys, cats, dogs, children and more.

The trick was fresh - but not too fresh - goats milk and rennet.

Korinna told me that store bought goats milk will NEVER make cheese because of pasteurization process and how it alters the proteins. Brand new goats milk doesn't work either. You must let it get a day or two old.



I used the same process as before but instead of lemon juice or apple cider, I added Rennet.



Change happened! It was so exciting!


Before you knew it, I had cheese hanging and dripping.


It was perfect.


I wish I could taste it - but the directions say to let it refrigerate for at least 24 hours before tasting. Patience is not my virtue!

Do you feel it?

Fall is in the air. There is a cool rain out tonight. The weight is lifting.

Today we found "THE Place." Monday we have an appointment for Mom to be assessed. Assuming there are no surprises Mom could be in her new place within a couple of weeks. She's actually somewhat excited about it and has decided this move requires a new wardrobe. She will, after all, be socializing on a daily basis.

Peter arrived HOURS early tonight. The house is cool.

I took this photo this evening. It reflects my mood.