OH SHEETS

 How many ways are there to make a bed?  I'm sure if you are a member of the military you will say there is only ONE way to perform this task. But if you are a home health aide you will prove that wrong.  

I never realized how a simple task of putting sheets on a bed could be so challenging. Even just making the bed in the morning seems to be a job that requires a doctorate in engineering.  My mother is rolling over in her grave for sure.

When The Man came up to Michigan this year he arranged with the VA to provide helpers 3 days a week. They come any where between 9AM and noon and spend three hours here "helping" with laundry, light house keeping and odds and ends that The Man needs done. Some will go grocery shopping but that usually doesn't go well.  Some how or other a package of napkins can substitute for a roll of toilet paper or a box of tissues.  We are never sure of exactly what will be bought and brought home. I find this all pretty amusing but The Man finds little humor in it. 

Today we had a "new" girl show up as our helper.  The Man does not like it when the VA substitutes someone for his regular "girl".  He hates having to train someone new. There are very specific ways some things must be done and trying to get a new person familiar with where things like brooms, vacuums and other items are located is very irritating for him. So today when the door opened an hour later than the normal arrival time of Jamie and a total stranger stood there "we" were already annoyed.  Because there really wasn't that much to do today and the fact that this girl had never been here before "we" decided to keep it simple. I was on my way out to the chiropractor so I hadn't made our bed yet. I figured this would be an easy task and it would give the girl something to do.  She asked if she needed to wash the sheets and I told her that was not necessary. If she could just pull up the sheet and comforter that would be great. Off I went.

When I arrived home an hour later the helper was already gone. She was supposed to stay until 1:00 and it was only 12:15 when I returned. This was not a good sign so I knew things had not gone well. The first thing The Man said when I came in the house was, "Look at the bed!  Can you believe THAT is how she made the bed!"   Sure enough, he had good reason to be upset.  The bed looked like a herd of buffalo had stampeded across the room. Sheets were all scrunched up, pillows tossed willy nilly and the comforter was hanging half on the floor.   A blind, one armed chimpanzee could have done a better job.  But is that wasn't enough, The Man told me he asked the girl to sweep the kitchen floor and she asked if she should sweep UNDER the table.  That totally blew his mind.  

As bad as that was the best one occurred a couple of weeks ago before I got here. It was a Wednesday, which has become "change the sheets day". There were clean sheets all ready to be put on the bed when the others were put in the washer to be ready for next week.  The man sent the girl in to put the clean sheets on the bed, which she did. That evening when The Man went to climb into bed there was no flat sheet on top of the fitted sheet. He couldn't imagine where the flat sheet could be. He then realized that the "helper" had put the flat sheet on the bed first and put the fitted sheet over it !!!!  

Apparently these "young" people, who are in their 30's and 40's, must live under a rock and never learned how to make beds or sweep a floor. Heaven forbid we ever ask them to do something complicated like putting  dishes away.  I do think the world is in major trouble if this is what will someday be "in charge". 

Or is it just up here in the UP?  They make fun of the weirdos in Florida.  I think that even though the swamp people of Florida have fewer teeth they do have a bit more smarts. 

SOLITUDE

 I LOVE being alone.   No one to have to share a space with. No one to interrupt my thoughts or actions. No one to cook for. No one to "supervise" my every move. I feel like a fish in a fish bowl. There are ALWAYS eyes watching me AND commenting on EVERYTHING I do. I feel like an amoeba under a microscope.  

At the moment I am in my sanctuary sitting in the dark where I hope to go unnoticed for the next hour or more.  I just finished cleaning up dinner, grabbed my laptop and told The Man I was going to sit out in the parlor and "check my e-mail".  Of course he had 42 different things to tell me that he had apparently not thought of while we were eating dinner. These thoughts only come into his head when I am leaving the room. 

It is interesting that The Man who called me EVERY NIGHT for 5 months has nothing to say unless it is to tell me how to wash a dish or make a bed. He honestly does not know what he is doing. Yesterday I was making him a sandwich for his lunch and he started telling me how to put the ham and cheese on the bread. SERIOUSLY !!!    I told him to settle down,  if he didn't like how I made his sandwich he could do it himself.  He was taken back that I had a thought of my own and actually voiced it because I usually just give him an "OK" and go on doing what I'm doing. He apologized later but I still don't think he realizes just how "up tight" he is. 

The Man needs to be on anti anxiety meds but he tried them once for 2 days and decided he didn't l ike the way they made him feel.  As if they would have started working that quickly. I have met my match in being stubborn. And he isn't even a Taurus or German.  I thought Norwegians were supposed to be very easy going. 

The past week has been interesting. Getting used to sharing a space and not eating what I want when I want is a challenge. The good thing is that I can escape if I want to and head for town. The poor guy isn't going out much so I can suddenly decide I am out of tooth paste so I need to take a trip to the dollar store. My trips to the dollar store are a high point of my life in Michigan.  The place is such a "junk shop" but they have EVERYTHING. I love walking up and down the aisles checking out all the dumb stuff. Yesterday I bought a $4 Christmas tree. Complete with decorations and lights.  It's only 3 feet tall but that is all we need. I also bought an ugly $4 wreath and some ribbon to dress it up. 

In case you're wondering, Yes, I am already loosing my mind !  And I have only been here 10 days. Lord help me by the time February rolls around when I get to go home. I will be a stark raving lunatic !!!!! But I will have lots of Dollar Store junk to bring home with me. 

THE LORD AND MASTER

 Once again The Man is reigning over his kingdom. He sits upon his throne, (the red naugahyde kitchen chair) and rules his roost.  (Maybe I should have titled this blog "The Rooster")  I think I may buy him a crown and scepter for Christmas.  Oooo. and a red velvet cape.  Then he really would look like the king of the castle!    Anything has to be better than underwear and a tee shirt greeting me first thing in the morning.

The Man has been living "on his own" (with his nephew 24 hours a day and aids coming in 3-4 hours EVERY day) for the past 6 months.  He has totally forgotten everything I "taught" him and has reverted to his primal state of giving orders to everyone and anyone.  I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER !!  It has taken me nearly 10 years of "training" to get The Man to a point where he does not have to direct my every move. And now, we are back at square one. 

I am sure all the helpers who come in are in need of directions.  Because common sense no longer exists it has become necessary to give step by step directions on how to change the toilet paper roll, how to boil water, how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and numerous other simple tasks. It boggles my mind how these people can function in the world on their own.  The best one was the girl who changed the sheets on the bed and put the flat sheet on first with the fitted sheet over it.  GOOD LORD !!!   

Well this is surely the place to come because The Man thrives on giving directions.  He gets up in the morning, gets his cup of coffee and begins makings a list of things he wants the helpers to do.  Then, like a spider in its web, he waits for the first unsuspecting fly to enter his kitchen.  From that point on the helper is not allowed to do ANYTHING without the step by step instructions of The King.  

 I am not picking on The Man because I realize that he wants things done a certain way in his home. I feel the exact same way when someone is helping me in my house.  The difference between the 2 of us is in how the asking is done.  I will ask someone to grab the dishes and put them on the table.  The Man will start with something like this:  "You see that cabinet over there?"  (no pointing or any other indication of what cabinet he is talking about.). "Go to the cabinet and open the door. Reach inside and take out 2 dishes, the big ones with the flowers on them,  and bring them to the table. Don't forget to close the cabinet door.  Put one of the dishes on this side of the table and put the second one across from it."          By the time he gives all his directions dinner has burned.  

The Man does this will EVERYTHING as I have mentioned numerous times in numerous blogs. But after his living "alone" and me living alone for 6 months I am out of practice on keeping my patience.  The minute he starts with giving me directions I want to reach across the room and slap him silly.  This morning was a perfect example.  I wanted to wash the bath mats and towels from the bathroom.  I have been here a week and these items are looking like they have not been washed since the last time I was here six months ago.   The helpers have learned, as have I, not to do anything without first asking permission.  (It gives The Man the illusion of "being in charge". You and I know better.).  I am sure that the helpers have never given a thought to washing the mats and if they had I know The Man would have told them "no, they're fine."   So I gathered the mats and towels and walked into the throne room where I said to the king, " I would like to wash all these mats and towels. Is that OK with you?"  Naturally he knew the correct answer was "Yes. They really need washing."  

Now because the idea wasn't his to start with I now had to endure the endless directions on how to wash a towel. (As if I have never done this in my 80 years on earth.) The Man went through his step by step directions to  make sure I knew how to turn on the washer and what the settings should be on the machine. You would be SO proud of me.!  I just let him talk, (I did not bother to listen but I gave a good performance.). I washed the items exactly the way I have been for years on end. Thanked The Man for his help and went into the bedroom to scream into my pillow.

I think there may be a "come to Jesus" moment where I explain to The Man that I do not like him thinking he is the only one around here who knows how to do anything. And basically he should just SHUT THE HELL UP!   

OR

WE will just continue on as we have for the last 10 years where he thinks he's in charge but you, me and the man in the moon all know who's REALLY running this show.

LEAF BLOWING AND OTHER FUN ACTIVITIES

 I LIKE LEAF. BLOWERS !!!!!!!  I find great satisfaction in blowing a mess of leaves off my lanai or lawn.   It is almost as enjoyable as power washing the lanai.  

I know you're thinking, "Is she NUTS????"  Probably !  But II feel very young and productive doing both those tasks.  (Although I usually make more of a mess than there was when I started.  I was one of those kids who ALWAYS jumped into a pile of leaves.  Much to the chagrin of my dad and our neighbors.) To be quite clear, I HATE raking leaves. But with a leaf blower I will spend hours out side. Squirrels and bunnies beware !   

My first leaf blower was one that Husband and I bought when we bought our house on Long Island.  We had a decent size front and side lawn that would be totally covered with leaves once September arrived.  Husband was a creature of habit and would only use a rake to gather leaves. (He also had the belief that if God put the leaves there God could clean them off.  The same went for snow.). But then guilt would raise its ugly head and the entire family was enlisted to RAKE LEAVES.  We HATED it !!!!   The kids would disappear within seconds of Husbands announcement that "today we ALL rake leaves".  I would attempt to make it a game but the kids were too smart for that.  Finally I woke up and bought a leaf blower. SO much better !!!!!

We left the leaf blower with the house when we moved from NY. to FL because we were moving into a community that. provided lawn service. Once a week there would be an invasion of Guatemalans racing around everyone property cutting lawns and blowing leaves.  When Husband died and I moved into a condo and met The Man I started traveling north to MI in. the summer. In MI we live on a farm that has lots of trees but because no one cares, no one rakes leaves.  So why does The Man have THREE leaf blowers?   (Haven't figured that one out yet.).   When we arrived at the farm each year I checked out the property and figured out where my leaf blowing skills were needed. It keeps me busy most of the summer. The MI leaf blowers are large and heavy so I have to pace myself.  I do enjoy it. 

This year because of my heart surgery I remained in Florida for the entire summer while The Man returned to the farm.  He misses me.  Awwwwww.  How sweet.  I will be traveling up there in a few weeks to experience my FIRST winter in Northern MI.  (Yes I am actually looking forward to spending the holidays up North.).    But back to the leaf blower.   When I returned home after 3 weeks in the hospital I realized my "garden" on the lanai was OUT OF CONTROL !!   Some sort of weed had invaded everything.  My climbing, flowering plant by the door was dead and there were leaves EVERYWHERE.   Being 3 weeks out of the hospital there was NO WAY I was going to do any gardening.  I could barely stand on my own no less rake leaves.  I blocked it out of my mind and went on my merry way to rrcovery, which included a LOT of naps.     

Fast forward to about a week ago when I realized I was no longer exhausted and I was able to do just about anything. That was when my Amazon account went through the roof.  I bought an electric scrubber for the bathroom showers.  I bought an electric can opener.  I bought a reading light for over my bed AND most importantly, I bought a LEAF BLOWER.   Even though I live in a community that provides lawn service I have a very large lanai that, even though it is completely screened in, fills with leaves.  Some blow in from outside when I leave the door open but most of them come from the various plants that I have growing in my garden.  (Inside on 2 sides of the screened in lanai there is a 2 foot wide section of dirt that can be used for planting. It doesn't sound like much but there is probably about 50 feet of soil in which I have experimented with over the 9 years we have lived here. ). Sadly none of my experiments were successful.     And so I have a lovely border around my Lani filled with weeds. 

But now, when I return to. FL in February when it hopefully will be cooler I. can pull weeds and blow them into the trash with my handy dandy. leaf blower. 

MICHIGAN RETURN

 Hang on to your hats . . . the blogs are about to resume.    I finally have something to write about thanks to my return to The Farm and The Man.  I had a WONDERFUL 6 months of living on my own.  Even with a month of surgery and rehab and temperatures in the 90's I still had a great time spending the summer in my condo.  

   To refresh your memory, The Man and I were in Florida for the whole winter. But once the weather started to warm up to boiling The Man knew he had to head back North to his home.  Mid April found him riding back to MI with his son where he immediately got sick and ended up in the hospital for a few days.  Once that passed he has been doing fantastic living "alone".  He has "helpers" coming in every day, seven days a week and his nephew moved in so that The Man would not be alone at night.  Win, win for everyone.  The Man has flourished and I was living my best life alone in FL.  (Except for the nightly one hour phone calls from The Man EVERY night I was free as a bird.). 

But all good things must come to an end.   After recouping from my heart surgery for 3 months and hearing EVERY NIGHT  how much The Man misses me I have been "guilted" into going back to Michigan to see The Man. The idea of not having to spend an hour or more every night talking about nothing was incentive enough to get my butt on a plane and head north. I have heard nothing since I arrived here except how much I am loved which is a lovely thing to hear.  Now it is my job to get The Man to settle down and stop hovering and directing and advising me about everything from how to cook dinner to taking out the garbage.   It seems I must have had brain surgery instead of heart surgery because The Man thinks I need constant supervision. (Actually he isn't that far off in his thinking.). Time will pass and we will settle back into our old routine of me being in charge and him being too afraid to speak. 

Before returning to The Farm I prepared myself for the changes I would have to make.  Number 1 being the change in climate.   Not the outside climate . . .   the temperature IN the house.  So far the weather outside is perfect.  High 60's, sun shine, slight breeze. PERFECT !!!!!!!   Apparently The Man does not open a. window or door to see what the weather is. He just looks at the calendar and decides that it is now mid October so the heat in the house MUST go on.  I am dying !!!  This house is so hot I can bake bread by just leaving it on the counter top. I have to return to my Ninja mode where I sneak around turning down the thermostat whenever The Man is not looking. It is going to be a long 4 months until my return to independent living in FL. 

Number 2 changes are food.  I lost about 15 pounds after my heart surgery. Mostly from the 2 weeks post op that I had zero appetite. It has been enough of an incentive to watch what I am eating.  Living alone. it is easy. Living with an ice cream addict it is nearly impossible.  I mean, who eats ice cream for breakfast?? Yup, you guessed it. I got the man drinking smoothies for breakfast but in order to make his smoothie even better he adds ice cream.  Then he has lunch of a sandwich which he doesn't like to eat alone even though I don't eat lunch.  And forget about dinner.  No more just a salad for me, it must be accompanied by a steak or burger or (ugh) potato sausage.  I am doing my best but it sure  isn't as easy as living alone. 

Numbers 3 & 4 . . . sleep and TV.  I have become accustomed to watching anything I want from 7PM till 1AM.  I never turn on the TV during the day and when I do watch TV it is something quirky, funny or romantic.  NEVER a war movie or western. I will get my dinner, head for the couch and turn on the TV ready for a night of binge watching.  I come to MI and it is Fox News at 5 for sure. It is usually preceded by what ever other news is on from the time The Man gets up from his nap around 3 till dinner time when we eat at the kitchen table watching Fox TV.  The Man showers shortly after dinner and heads for bed by 7:15.  At 7:15 at night I am just getting ready to settle down to dinner and several hours of TV. But now I have someone asking when I am coming to bed because he is lonesome. 

It will take some time for me to readjust to "married" life.  So until I do you can expect blogs on a pretty regular basis. I hope you enjoy but even if you don't I need to write to keep from killing someone I am living with.  

THE "UN" SMART TV

To be honest it is not the TV that is not smart, it is the person who purchased the TV who is just not living in the 21st century.   LORD !!!   How does he manage to function on a daily basis?????????

One guess who I am talking about. . .    YUP !!  Once again The Man has managed to screw up a soup sandwich. Or to put it another way,  "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING ?????????????"

Let me back up a bit for those of you who may not be familiar with The Man and his many screw-ups.  I will be the first to tell you he is a lovely person and I am delighted to have him in my life.  But I am also delighted that he is now at his home up in Michigan while I remain here in Florida "recovering" from surgery in July.  The Man chose to leave the sunny south in April so he could be home in his house.  i totally agreed with that decision. At that time he was not doing well physically so I knew he wanted to be in his home with his family near by.  I actually was quite happy with his decision because I did not think I could handle surgery and The Man at the same time.  (If you have ever had your spouse take care of you during your recovery from anything you know what I am talking about. You could have lost both your arms and legs and you would still be expected to cook dinner and entertain them. )

And so The Man is now into his third month of living "alone" up on his farm.  But . . .  he is not alone. (Thank goodness!)  His nephew has moved in with him to be there to help cook, and give him a hand with daily chores.  The Man also has aides coming in 7 days a week for 4 hours a day.  They do laundry, shop and clean and do what ever else The Man may challenge them with.  Naturally none of them are as smart as The Man so when they don't know how to make an egg salad sandwich or put the sheets on the bed the "RIGHT" way The man goes into a tizzy for days.   

About a month ago The Man decided he wanted to buy a "SMART TV"  to put out in the living room so we could stream shows out there instead of watching on my computer.  Both of the other TV's in the house are so ancient that we have a gerbil on a wheel  running round and round to provide power to turn the TV's on.   (No, not really.  We have a raccoon.)     Anyway . . .  The Man decided he wants to put a smart TV in the living room, (That would be the room that he NEVER goes into)  I have gotten into the habit of going into the living room at night after dinner to get away from the TV and The Man.  So much for that !!

The Man has asked a thousand questions about Smart TV's so he would be prepared to  purchase one on line and have his nephew pick it up and bring it home.  I assured him that all he would have to do is plug it in, go to  one of the streaming venues, aka Netflix or Hulu and enter our pass word for that service.  (I spend a small fortune for all these sites so we would be good to go.)  

Two nights ago I got a phone call from "Mr Happy" all proud of himself that he bought a Smart TV which is now sitting in the living room on the new TV stand that I suggested he buy. (It was either buy a small piece of furniture or survive the goat screw that would happen if he and the nephew decided to hang the TV on the wall. )  The two of them put the cabinet together and put the TV up on it. He even sent me a picture to show me how great they did.  I wrote back that it looked wonderful and they did indeed "Do Good".   Ten minutes later my phone rang.It was The Man asking me for my ROKU password.     HUH ??????     Why would you need my ROKU password if you bought a Smart TV????  We have ROKU on the 2 TV's in the house. It came free when we switched over to "fiber Optic" service last year.  But because it did not allow Netflix and a few other streaming apps we decided to get a SMART TV !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

After going around in circles with The Man for ten minutes I asked to speak with his nephew.  (Who apparently was not much smarter than The Man. )   I know EXACTLY what happened. The Man went on line to look for TV's at Walmart, saw one one sale and bought it thinking all TV's now are Smart!!! (Which I guess is true because the TV sure is a lot smarter than it's purchaser.)   The TV is NOT   a smart TV it is a ROKU TV.     You have to buy the streaming services that you want even though you already have subscriptions for all of them.   

So now I am paying for Netflix and others so that I can enjoy TV here in FL while The Man is paying . . .  who knows how much a month for his ROKU services on a TV that is not smart.  

GOOD LORD !!!!!!!!!!!!

THERE MAY HAVE BEEN DRUGS INVOLVED

 I think I have lost two weeks of my life.  This is not a concern so much as a puzzle.  All I can attribute it to is drugs.  And to that I say. " THANK YOU VERY MUCH !"

I managed to survive the 60's without ever having tried any illegal substances. (God knew what he was doing when he kept me out of temptation. Or perhaps it was just that I was too dumb to need drugs or too dorky to know anyone who had drugs.). What ever the reason I have made it 80 years without ever being stoned.

Until now . . .  

Open heart surgery was almost 4 weeks ago and the more time that passes the more I realize that I have NO IDEA of where I was or what was real for the first 2 of those weeks.  Every day the fog fills my brain just a little more until I suspect the only evidence I will have of my hospital adventure will the the scar on my chest.  

It is an extremely weird feeling to have "memories" of something but not be sure if they are in fact memories of things that happened or some psychedelic random wanderings of my brain.  I remember bits and pieces of things . . .  The pattern of the tiles  on the floor of what I assume was my hospital room. Is that not a strange thing to have stuck in my. head?   I vividly remember a painting hanging on the wall at the foot of my bed. I remember this because I was endlessly entertained by the people in the painting who were moving around all the time. (I am told by my children that the painting contained not a single person. But I swear to you there were people and a flock of seagulls flying around.). I apparently spent a lot of time laying in the bed with the painting to entertain me. I have no idea if this was in the ICU or cardiac recovery. It's all a blur.  Each day in the hospital I thought I was perfectly fine. No pain, no worries and now no memories.  One of my friends has told me the doctors probably had me pretty well drugged those first weeks so that I would rest and recover.  I remember being up and walking around. Sitting up in a chair each day to eat meals, (which I did not eat because I had zero appetite). This is really strange !  I don't remember individuals . . .  doctors, nurses, aides. It seemed there was a constant stream of people coming in and out of my room but I can't picture the room. I remember thinking I was in a hotel. A very old hotel with green tiles on the floor.  

I would really like to see a video of myself those first 2 weeks after surgery.  I can only imagine how entertaining that would be.  I know my son Kyle was with me every day even though I don't have a single memory of him being there until I went to the rehab facility.  That was when the cloud started to lift and I began making some sense of what was going on and where I was.  

One thing I DO remember is how freaking cold I was.  Perhaps it is kept so cold in hospitals so that if you should die the body will not decompose too quickly before the nurse answers the call button.   I have never been in a meat locker but I imagine the hospital rooms are at least twenty degrees cooler,  

I also remember the day about half way through my hospital stay when I had had enough and told the nurses I was going home NOW !!!  I was cold, tired, in need of some bathroom privacy and sick to death of nurses telling me I can't get out of the bed!!!!  My kids and the nursing staff managed to keep me from getting dressed and leaving, (as if I could have walked out on my own power.)  We came to an agreement that if I stayed one more day they promised I could leave after that.  I have a feeling they may have bumped up my medication right after that. 

WHY anyone would choose nursing as a profession is beyond me.  I guess it has its rewarding moments but as far as I could tell the poor nurses are overworked, underpaid and definitely un appreciated.  For the little I can remember I wouldn't want me as a patient.  

Hopefully the "nightmare" is over. Not that there was anything horrible that I had to endure but that sense of helplessness, frustration and fatigue really wears on you.  

Did I forget to mention the strange clock that was in my hospital room ?  Every night I would go to sleep around 8:00 PM.  (The time was determined by the staff so that they could fit in rounds and the changing of the shift.). Everyone would get tucked into bed, given medications and lights out.  There I would lay staring at the clock on the wall. (The moving painting was now a past memory).  I SWEAR to you I would look at that damn clock and it would say 8:02.  The next time I looked at the clock it would say 8:01.  HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE ?????  This would go on all night long.  I would look at the time only to realize it was earlier then when I had checked it before.  I would watch the clock, doze off,, check the clock again and finally fall asleep at about 3:30 AM.  Just in time for the nurses to come busting into the room at FOUR in the morning to get me up and ready for the day. The door would slam open, all the lights would go on and a cheerful, sadistic  evil nurse would say "Good Morning! Would you like to get up ad sit in the chair?"   There is no correct answer to this question. No matter what my response I ended up in that freaking chair, freezing and waiting for 7:30 AM when I might be fortunate to have something hot served for breakfast.   

Sadly these are the memories I have managed to retain.