I carried through with my intention to take mom to lunch and the quilt museum yesterday, or tried to. We went to lunch first. She did indeed get fussy about how long it was taking for our order to arrive, six minutes after placing it, and again at the 10 minute mark. At the 12 minute mark she rudely asked our 8.5 month pregnant waitress: “Just how LONG does it take to get a bowl of chowder to the table?” The waitress was flawless responding it would be only one more minute, and she’d go check right then and there (I apologized to her later). Then, predictably, the clam chowder was too thick. At least it tasted good.
Despite the museum’s website posting their holiday hours, which said they’d be open until 5pm, they closed at 2pm. We arrived at 2:08pm. While that was a disappointment, we enjoyed wandering the quaint village shops. As the temperature dropped we headed to the car, and I followed the signs to the interstate highway, rather than use Google Maps. The signs led us along county roads that all looked alike. This made for lots of jokes about whether we were passing the same flooded field filled with swans and geese. Good laughs.
Mom has been very repetitive the last two days, and has asked the same questions over and over, at times, seconds apart. While this is ‘normal’ now, I’ll never get used to it. The thing that is hardest for me right now, is her need to school/boss/inform me, or us, about, well, everything.
* Add cornstarch to the wasabi to thicken it up! (Just add more wasabi powder.)
* All Japanese people she knows add wasabi directly to their soy sauce. (Said as a correction to my having a dollop of wasabi on my plate. This was one she repeated in less than 30 seconds.)
* Add dried seaweed between the rice pad and the piece of fish when making sushi, and variants. (Mom taught me to make sushi over 30 years ago. She is making up variants at the same time she is forgetting fundamentals of what she taught me.)
* Telling me to slow down while approaching stopped traffic in front of us. (I am slowing down!)
* Use turpentine to clean the stove door. (I have a stove door cleaner that dissolves soot. She says it must have turpentine in it. OK, whatevah.)
* Schooling my husband on the running of our sealed Lopi stove, which we can’t let her touch because she doesn’t know how to use it (and would be insulted should we try to teach her how it works), and will smoke the house should she try.
As a partial counterpoint to the above, mom was somewhat collaborative this afternoon while my husband had our front door kick plate taken apart (in 40 degree weather!) in order to figure out why the door, that is used daily of the two, was suddenly jamming. Aside from mentioning Verathane as a cure to the problem four times, mom was a team member in trouble shooting the problem.
Time for me to put out what we need to set the table in the morning. Making it easy for mom to help is the best therapy for the whole household!