2016 June Island Trip – Day Two
An upside: Mom continues unpacking the books and is trying to organize them by subject. A downside: The books are all over the space the shelf is in. I predict that when I return to the Island, nothing will have changed. I keep placing books on the shelf where ever they fit. She doesn’t notice.
The shed is much safer now that 8 large boxes of recycling aren’t cluttering the floor. This small building is where mom’s clothes dryer lives. Mom asked me to retain the boxes the recycling was stored in rather than recycle the boxes too. As an experiment, I tossed a fruit box full of newspaper into the (tractor/trailer sized) recycle bin at the dump, as we were unloading the truck together. She didn’t notice! So, bad kid that I am, I got rid of 4 very useful boxes right under her nose.
When I arrived, there was a box of Decon mouse poison sitting on the small antique chest that acts as an end table to mom’s large couch. While that end table is never used for food or drink, it is not a safe place for mouse poison. Today I asked, “Mom, have you seen mice here?” while pointing to the open bait box of Decon. She waved it off saying she hadn’t. I asked, “Are you worried there are rodents in the house?” She wasn’t and instructed me to place the bait box on the built-in cabinet at the back door. While I see no fresh evidence of rodents, I deployed the bait box correctly along a baseboard where she will never see it.
We decided to drive to the Island resort this afternoon and walk the small gardens. This boating-centric community was owned by the family of a classmate of mine when I was in high school. Today it’s owned by a local corporation. We took in the two small, dense and well done retail shops, and then checked out the rather decent grocery store, geared toward the yachting community. Mom was impressed with the prices. I suggested that she could shop at this store for a change of pace.
The resort is the site of historic lime kiln operations dating back to the 1800’s. It’s surrounded with abandoned 4 story tall kilns and the supporting infrastructure. We both enjoyed our time there. It’s a future lunch destination for us.
As part of dinner, Mom seasoned mayonnaise for an artichoke. I walked into the kitchen and saw her putting away an Asian sauce, and asked to read the ingredients. As I suspected, it had wheat flour in it. I am distressingly intolerant to gluten. Mom didn’t mean to put anything in our dinner with wheat, and she doesn’t know these sauces typically have wheat in them. When I told her I couldn’t eat the sauce, she said she only used 3 drops in the mayonnaise. I said I’d whip up my own mayonnaise, to which she got testy, and countered her first statement with, “I didn’t use any!” I repeated what she’d told me. She denied it and said that she meant to say, “I was getting the sauce out of the fridge and would only have used three drops.” I repeated what she’d told me. She next countered with, “I used three drops of Tabasco. This is what happened. I’m not just suggesting it!” She couldn’t simply be OK that I was unable to use the mayo she seasoned. Under her glare and criticism (she behaves more and more like she describes her own mother’s behavior at times like these), I seasoned my own batch of mayonnaise. Within two minutes she’d forgotten the contentious part of the interaction. Later, as we set the table, she couldn’t remember where the mayo was (fridge).
As far as I can tell, mom didn’t take any allergy meds at all today.
Misc. Memory Foibles:
- · What we’re doing/having for dinner. 6X
- · 2 Additional times asking about Cindy.
- · Asked me twice in 3 minutes who I was going to vote for.
- · Asked me what my step-daughter Chloe is up to. She’s still traveling the world!! Just like the last 8 times mom asked.
- · “Where are we putting the boxes?” This was curious to me. Mom’s Island home is the size of a generous apartment. We’d been stacking emptied boxes by her back door for 24 hours. I reminded her, and she said, “Oh, right!” There’s almost nowhere else we could put them! (Note: I’m taking all the boxes back to the mainland with me… Excuse given is I need them for the next load I bring her. They took a while to scavenge (fact), and I’d like to reuse them. Truth be told, if I didn’t have a good reason to take them with me, she’d add them to her very useful box collection. While I don’t want to re-scavenge perfect sized book packing boxes, if they melt in the rain on the drive home, that’s fine, as long as they do not remain on mom’s property!)
- · I walked down the road and back to a neighbor who sells eggs. After I returned to the house, I let mom know there were no eggs available, and that I was going to sit outside and read in the shade after my stroll (my fitbit counts mom’s drive as 11 flights of stairs, the walk was long, her house was hot, the breeze was lovely). After 10 minutes I went back inside. Mom asked, “Did you get your eggs?”