Cozy Field Mice and Daddy's Bad Spill

So, we're back in Texas. It's hot. I expected that. The cat and dog are both depressed about not having their deck to spend the long days. I'm having allergy problems. So is the cat. We did hire someone to come rake up these leaves and haul them off. Getting ready to have the real estate agent out on Thursday, so we're trying to spiffy things up for her. I cleaned the upstairs, packed up two boxes of books I don't want to keep, and uprooted a mouse who was making a nest under the bathroom sink up there. Guess this happens when you leave a house empty for two months. The mice move in. Anyway, my SO set traps, so maybe we will catch this thing tonight. You know the cat is sick or otherwise that mouse would've been history the first day we arrived.

While we were gone, I found out this past Friday, Daddy had a bad fall. It could've been worse, I guess. He could have broken bones. What he did do is rip the skin off his forearm, from his elbow to his wrist. He couldn't staunch the bleeding so he drove himself to the Emergency Room. There were no stitches to be taken but they bandaged him and advised him to report to his doctor on Monday. He did, and for the last four weeks he has been going in three times a day to have silver sulfadiazine burn ointment applied to the wound and a new bandage. I think it scared him enough he's ready to get Life Alert. I had the home health people here send me some information on that service. The most troubling thing about this who incident, at least to me, is that he can't remember what made him fall, and nobody, not even his regular doctor, seemed to think he should be tested for TIAs or something else that could have caused that fall. 


And here we are going forward with plans to put the house on the market and move permanently to New Mexico. It's a hard call but one that makes sense financially as well as logistically. I was thinking today as I cleaned upstairs, that at the other house I would have been done with the entire house in the time it took to clean just that one-third of this house that I managed to maul through. We don't need this large of a house and with this Eagle Ford Shale oil and gas boom, it is hopefully, the right time to sell, too. The only misgivings I have concern Daddy.


Wonder of wonders -- I was writing while we were there. Something new and not ready to be discussed but it felt so good to get lost in words again, even if it was short lived. I think all the reading I was doing there was partly responsible. I tend to forget how inspiring just simply reading books can be for a writer. I also seem to have more time to correspond with writer friends and that also is inspirational, just to talk about writing, like a REAL writer. I had a couple of stimulating telephone conversations as well. 


So it will be August tomorrow, when we get up in the morning. The hottest time of the year. I know I will be ready to get back to the mountains when we leave again in two weeks. I'm already counting the days.


Onward ....

Thanksgiving

Just finished Thanksgiving with the parents -- my dad and my SO's mom. His mom is a lady's lady, church-going, prim and proper. So what does Daddy do first thing? Came in telling a "dick" joke, so inappropriate, so embarrassing. It was met with absolute silence, except for an awkward chuckle from my SO. Daddy is having a hard time understanding the new dynamics, obviously. I suppose he thought it would endear him, make everybody think what a funny old eccentric man he is. I just thought it was kind of sad, because I know that he admires my SO's mom, but if he thought this was the way to impress her, he was dead wrong. Then at the end of the meal, we were sitting over table having a discussion about the world, etc., and Daddy starts in on his theory of religion, most of which I happen to agree with, but know better than to speak of in "mixed" company. Abruptly, my SO's mom decided it was time to get the hell out of here, and she did, quickly, calling an old friend she wanted to visit. Her leaving, from phone call to driving off down the road, took less than 5 minutes. It was like her back was on fire to get out of here. So.... this'll be the last time I'll have them both here at the same time.

Was a small Thanksgiving meal, and unconventional. We had smoked brisket instead of turkey and dressing. I had made potato salad last night, and green bean casserole this morning. The apple pie was pretty but not as tasty as I had hoped. The apples were, I think, too sweet. Anyway, it's over. We finally got rid of Daddy, too, and now it's just the two of us, the way we really like it best. I opened a bottle of pinot grigio and we're watching a little football, just chillin.

The holidays make me realize how satisfied with my life I already am. The only thing better would be if we could pack up and head to the mountain house.

Onward ....

Final Commitment

What a week this is going to be! It started right off crazy busy with my cousins coming for lunch on the same day my SO left for NM. I will follow him later this week. I had a dentist appointment yesterday that was made clear back in January, and my dentist happens to be in Austin. So I got in a half-packed car and flew up there and back yesterday, stopping only long enough to run into PetSmart and Penney's. When I got back home, at 6:30 in the evening, there was an email with the subject header of FINAL COMMITMENT. Sounds so ominous. But what it means, in a nutshell, is WE GOT THE HOUSE!
It's been so nerve wracking, seeing that email was a little anti-climatic. But now I feel comfortable enough to tell the world.

Today I have to finish packing the car, go to the bank to ease the wire transfer along, the post office, and then to a doctor's appointment this afternoon that I have also had since last October. I'm so scattered, I've been making lists all over the place, then misplacing those. I've already misplaced the gate opener. I really miss my sweetheart and my dog. And today! Today, is the 3-year anniversary of our first date. It seems so much longer ago than that, and now we've made this FINAL COMMITMENT on a house in the mountains.

People who know seem excited for us. All except for Daddy that is. I think he's depressed about the whole idea of us being gone even more than we are already. And as I've stated here before, Daddy is a big dilemma. I think that he's beginning to get really feeble, and he's depressed about it, maybe thinks I should be tending to him on a daily basis. Some women would be doing that, I know a few who would, but I'm not that sort of woman. As selfish as it seems, I feel I have already given up a huge portion of my life for others, have basically put my life on hold for most of the last 40 years, and I'm just not willing to continue pushing the hold button. I don't know how many more years are left. At my age, my mother had just 7 years left. I wonder if she had known that when she was 57, what all would she have done differently. I feel, have always felt, that she died completely unfulfilled. And the other truth is, Daddy has had choices in all of this, too. It's his choice to live so isolated, so cut off from all the people since Mother died who reached out to him and tried to have a relationship with him. He rejected everybody, didn't want to have to make the effort to have a social life, and now he is so alone. But it was a decision he made all by himself, despite everyone's efforts.

And that brings me to another thought -- that we so often do these things to ourselves -- by making poor choices, for all sorts of different reasons. This house in the mountains, this man I am in love with, the way we live, things we do, I feel I am fully engaged in all of these things. I no longer feel when I wake up in the morning that I'm going through the motions, like some automaton. That's not to say all those earlier years were bad ones, they certainly were not. I have many many good memories, and I feel great fondness and love for my ex. It had a bad ending, but lots of stories do, that's just life. But I made choice that were not always good for me, I feel that so much of that time was spent just half-living, waiting for some mysterious better day that would come later, and those are mistakes I'm trying not to repeat now.

It's risky, buying this house. The economy is still struggling, especially the real estate market. Of course, that shakiness is what made buying this place nearly irresistible. We paid way under the tax appraisal, and way under the market value in the area. The house needs lots of work, and I'm going to have to control this impatient urge I have to get it perfect right NOW! But if some things should go south financially, for either one of us, it would be hard to sell either of these two houses quickly if we had to do that. We have made the difficult decision to put the place at the Coast up for sale right after the New Year. We've had so many good times down there, memorable times, but we're in a different place now, and this last year we haven't gone down there enough, or enjoyed ourselves there as much, so it's time to let it go.

And now I need to get back to my crazy busy day, so I can be ready to join my SO later this week to close on our house. I'll post a picture of it when we have the hot key in our hands. Things can, as I well know, always go wrong, so I'll reserve pictures for later.

Onward ....

Malaise, or Yearning for a Change of Scenery

Malaise: a general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify. 


In other words "in a funk." That's where I seem to find myself. I haven't even wanted to blog or felt I had anything to say, this blue funk has been so heavily upon me. It began with the house in New Mexico, putting in the offer first, then not getting accepted second. I was starting to kind of come out of it when we left for a long weekend in DC to see the boys. But while we were there, here came an email from the people who own the house, dangling the possibility that they would consider selling it after all. The man's health is bad. I think the woman really wants to sell but he thinks he might get better, and they adore the place. I understand their dilemma, but they got my hopes up all over again.

After we were back home, I decided to talk to the mortgage company who holds our house here, just to see what we would be talking about on a monthly basis for that house up there. Well, it was way more than I had hoped. We could put up a bigger down payment and get the monthly payment down, but I'm not enthusiastic about letting go of so much liquid cash. I told the loan officer to close down the deal. And anyway, the people with the house seemed to be waffling again. But now I find myself feeling the blues over all this again. Dammit!

There's the problem of Daddy with this whole idea of finding a place there. I really doubt I could go off and leave him with him at his age and in his health condition. Not that he's terrible. He really isn't at all. His mind is sound, which is a big thing, but arthritis and kidney disease often lay him low. His hearing is rapidly failing. He'll be 86 next birthday, and I really feel like we are the only social life he has, which is his own fault. He's not like my SO's mom, who stays active in garden club and church, keeps in touch with old friends and family. Daddy has almost purposely let go of all his old friends, has turned down efforts made by possible new friends, and just generally sits alone in his house with his dog, or sits out in the yard with his dog and a beer or two. The conundrum is that I feel obligated to him, and yes, resentful about it, too, I'll admit. I'm no spring chicken myself, and wonder how long I can keep "punching the hold button" as my SO puts it, on my own life. I feel that I've already wasted a lot of precious years, and don't relish wasting many more. Sigh!

So, I find myself with this malaise. Unhappy with circumstances. It's kind of a habit of mine. I need to let it go but it's not always easy. Life is short. I have so many things yet that I want to do. I think a change of scenery, permanently, would do me a world of good. I might even feel inspired to write again. Ya think?

Onward ....

The Healing Power of Pets

My mother died in 1995. She was not an easy woman, to put it mildly. She had her moments of sweetness but she was troubled by self-doubt and feelings of inferiority as well as a mistrust of people and a negative outlook on life in general. Daddy endured 49 years with her, and when she died he was liberated. This may sound like a degradation of my mother, and I don't mean for it to. The liberation line came from Daddy himself.

Other than a couple of obligatory dogs for my brother and me, along with the odd turtle or two, for most of their married life, my parents were petless. Mother liked it that way. She was afraid of most animals, and didn't understand the ones she knew well. Daddy, on the other hand, was raised on a farm and craved the connection to animals that he had lost when he married Mother. So when she died, practically the first thing he did was get two puppies.

On a trip to K-Mart, he saw a sign on a telephone pole advertising "free puppies" along with an address, and he came home with Buddy and Sister. Like all puppies, they were adorable, and almost instantly, he became obsessed with them. They provided laughter and companionship, both things he needed after losing his spouse to lung cancer. Even though she was difficult, she was his partner and they had weathered a lot together. The sudden aloneness was awkward for Daddy at first. And losing a loved one to cancer is not only appalling, but also exhausting to those left behind. Two cute, frolicking puppies were just the ticket to bring Daddy out of the funk of becoming a new widower. Those two pups grew up and gave Daddy fourteen years of purpose. When they died, within four weeks of each other last December, I worried that Daddy might die, too.

Sister was the first to go. Her decline was rapid and unexpected. Buddy had been the one in bad health for a while. And it seemed unfortunate that she would also die of cancer, like Mother had. Sister's cancer was in her stomach. Daddy needed a lot of help coping through her quick death. Me and my SO were the ones who took her to the vet her final time. We knew Daddy was suffering. What we didn't expect was how Buddy would grieve for his littermate. He become ill almost immediately, and after four hard weeks, the SO and I made a second final trip to the vet on Daddy's behalf. He was just too overcome with depression to be the one to put his beloved Buddy out of his misery.

This sad story has a happy ending, so don't stop reading now.

About the same time as he was losing his pets, Daddy was also losing his eyesight. I had noticed how erratic his driving had become. Daddy was always was a careful, steady driver, who to my knowledge, has never had so much as a fender-bender, but suddenly he was running stoplights he didn't see, and swerving towards curbs, running over obstacles in the road. In addition, he spent way too much time sleeping. When I went to check on him, I almost always woke him and at all times of the day. I have a key so I could let myself in when he didn't answer the door, and twice this happened. Both times he was wadded up in his bed, so still and quiet I felt compelled to shake him awake. He was obviously deeply depressed and I felt powerless to do anything about it. I prepared myself for the inevitable.

One of the reasons I chose to move into this house in the country is because it lies just outside the small town where Dad resides. Now in his 80s, I could see the time when he would need me nearby and I was only three miles from him here, rather than the twenty-six miles away I had been before the move. I had made a deathbed promise to Mother that I would take care of Daddy. Not that I needed that promise to make me see to Daddy's welfare, but still, I had told her I would look after him, and I intend to make good on my word. This house has an extra room across the garage, with its own bathroom and sort of modified kitchen area. It seemed like a place where Daddy could live with us and still have a kind of autonomy. During his depression, just after the dogs died, I broached the subject of him moving in with us. He flatly refused. I can't lie and say that I was disappointed; I was relieved. If he still wanted to live alone, then he still had some of his old spirit left.

We got through his eye surgeries, and they worked miracles. He no longer even needs his glasses on most days. Just last week I was thinking about how I haven't known him without glasses for at least forty years, and he looks a little funny to me still, a little naked without them. Now he needs only cheap reading glasses, and uses them sparingly.

So it was time, I thought after he had recovered from his surgeries, to approach him about a new dog. He was instantly receptive to the idea. Four months had gone by since Buddy's death. Daddy was ready to think about having a dog again but he had stipulations. He only wanted one dog this time, and it must be a female. She had to be grown, already housebroken. He couldn't see himself starting over with a puppy. He would be 85 on his next birthday. A calm, older, smallish dog would suit him best. We started looking online at the shelters in our area. We found a few prospects and made a date with each other to go around and meet our online choices in person.

The first pet adoption was a disappointment. They'd had one dog we had liked online, but once we were there, the people told us she had behavior problems, would often snap and bite for no apparent reason. Still, I could see the light coming on in Daddy's eyes. I think he would have liked to have given her a try. It was me who nixed that idea. The truth was, Daddy would have taken the whole roomful of dogs home if he could have. We drove to the next place.

Right away I had a better feeling. It was clean and neat, the dogs had roomy kennels and an outside play area. The dogs looked happy and cared-for. Information about each dog was posted clearly on the outside of their kennel. The border collie-cross we had seen online was bigger than I'd expected, and she growled when Daddy approached her door. However, there was one dog with unusual brindle markings that caught Daddy's attention. I'm not sure what it was about her really, who understands love at first sight? Her name was Heidi, and I saw right away that she was only 8 months old. And she was already big, so she would end up much bigger than our small Dutch shephard. They said Heidi was a Labrador cross, but I said then and still say now, she has next to no Lab in her at all. She looked like a small greyhound to me. The attendant asked if we would like to see her in a private room. Daddy's face lit and he nodded without taking his eyes off her.

Once we were in the private room, with Daddy holding a bowl full of milkbones, I asked, almost hesitantly if he realized she was not even a year old yet. He was laughing so hard at the dog's antics and her enjoyment of the bones that he barely nodded. He said, "She has charisma, don't you think?" Well, what do you do? Yes, she seemed sweet-natured, and she took right to Daddy, but she was only 8 months old, a really REALLY large puppy. The attendant said she was house-broken, and that seemed like enough for Daddy. I hadn't seen him smile so big in such a long time. I was not going to nix this dog for anything. We signed all the papers, paid the adoption fee, and they brought her out to us cleaned up like a new bride.

That was last Spring. Heidi is firmly ensconced in Daddy's heart and home now. She has destroyed every pair of houseshoes and flipflops he owned. She has dug holes in his yard and shredded papers in his office. She has chewed his couch. She has unloaded his closet several times over, strewing his things across, not only the house, but all over the backyard as well, because he leaves the sliding door open for her to come and go as she pleases. She has the run of the place, but ... she has also saved him.

When I talk to Daddy on the phone now the conversation is all about Heidi and her latest pranks. Sometimes when we're talking, he begins to talk to her midway through, and laughs. He laughs and laughs. A lot. He's full of wonderment about her intelligence, about her ability to remember and respond, about her affection. He tells me that when she wants him to get up she stands by his bed and stares him awake. I love her for this. She motivates him to stay out of that bed. She has given him a purpose and new enthusiasm for living.

I've read all the reports about how petting a dog or cat can lower your blood pressure. I believe in it. I've seen the healing power of pets with my own eyes, and felt it within myself, too. My cat has mustered me through many a hard time. Now, I have both a cat and a dog to lift me and give my life a little added joy. When the SO goes out of town to work, I have their company and their attention. We have our morning rituals and habits. Neither the dog or the cat care for much variation, and our routine gives me focus as well. I advocate for pets. What a kickstart they give us!

Onward ....