A published writer and avid reader, who likes to take a quirky look at the world about her. Bob is the steady anchor in a house governed by the mayhem of two parents and two grown children who have left home but frequently drop by to either check out the fridge or check in with Bob and Ellie.
Maria's free time is divided between family, work, writing and volunteering.
Mr Bob is becoming a grumpy demanding old dog! No other way to put it, I am afraid to say he is relishing the role. If there were a doggy version of Father Ted, he would be Father Jack!
He doesn’t call for whiskey though he did lick some off my fingers with great enthusiasm which would indicate that if a bowl or glass were offered it would not be refused.
Bob still makes everyone smile, as he plods about the house, walking under the visiting Brooke (Greyhound of a very leggy variety) as though she were not there. His meds have increased a little and on each occasion, I call to the vets to get a new batch, they express their surprise and delight that he is still king of the castle. I have attached a few photos of the grumpy, sometimes smiling old dog. Please note I did try bribery to get him to look at the camera, but…
Isn’t it odd how old we become on the outside while inside we still feel like a twenty-year-old? That is my one observation having spent some days visiting with my dad.
His dementia has progressed at a frightening rate. So much so, that we had no choice but to bring him back to the nursing home where he feels happy. For me, it was a tough decision in one way, because I remember his reluctance to consider going in for respite eighteen months ago and his refusal to move mum to a local nursing home. However, I was happy knowing that, he is safer with many carers around him than just one of us with him twenty-four seven.
It is now two weeks since he moved house, and the weight has lifted from my shoulders, years and layers of stress are falling away and I have gained a little weight. Dad too is experiencing a lightening of years as he takes part in musical afternoons, dancing with anyone who is willing to risk getting their feet shuffled on, or squashed. His bright cheery “Hello,” gains him smiles and conversation. He is taking part in art classes, and on Wednesday of this week, he was a baker hoping to enjoy tea and queen cakes which he had helped to whip up and bake.
Just like Bob he is managing to hold on to his good humour and winning ways.
“It is really fortunate that my hair is as white as snow because this would turn anyone’s hair white. What made you do such a silly thing?” Connie stood hands on her ample but curvy hips surveying the mess before her. The barn smelt beautiful except for the odd farting and belching coming from the reindeer. The two elves tried to look sorry but mischief popped from every pore of their bodies, the munching reindeer looked very happy.
Connie knew she should punish them but how? After all, they supposed they were doing a good thing, how were they to know she had not baked all 356 cakes, yet.
Sam and Noel had decided to add a little festive cheer to the reindeer’s breakfast. They had achieved it by borrowing Connie’s large tub of treacle, another of golden syrup, some festive cranberries and cherries (because Sam loved them), and created a Christmas cake for the reindeer. Sam scuffed his toe off the ground releasing a beautiful scent of mixed spice,” Sorry Connie, we just well… we thought they should have something Christmassy, “
“Hmm right. Let’s start your punishment off with a little cleaning up, then you can wash the reindeer and then…” As she set out the full weight of her punishment, the elves lost all sign of twinkling and festive cheer.
“That stuff is for girls and we are not girls!” She heard Sam moan as she left them to try and create a little Christmas miracle herself by making 56 Christmas cakes out of thin cold air.
Connie busy baking did not notice a lack of noise each evening but Santa did. “Okay, Connie, spill. Have you locked the elves up or sent them off to watch all of the Santa movies? Why is it peaceful?”
Connie decided to investigate. Together they searched the many elf houses and all of the workshops. Nothing, not an elf in sight. “If they have been elf napped, Christmas is in trouble. It may have to be cancelled.” To console himself, Santa tested another Christmas Cake.
However, next morining all the elves were present in the workshop and again that evening it was too quiet. It was the click clack noise that gave the game away. Santa looked at Connie, “should I be worried?”
She smiled. “Only if you are a reindeer.”
This is what they saw..
Mind you, Rudolph did look happy in his Christmas jumper.
LIfe is full of mysteries, like how do they get the fondant fancies so equal and smooth? Some make us smile and some simply leave everyone puzzled.
Dad has been busy. He created a puzzle. One night he fell, gave himself a nasty whack on the head, and we went off to A&E where they were very nice, very kind and despite all we hear about hospitals today, relatively fast at getting him x rayed and examined. He had a fracture above his wrist and it was bandaged and he was admitted to hospital for a few days. Fast forward to his release, all went really well, I mean I didn’t lose him which was great but when I got home I discovered his heavy bandage was missing. I rang the hospital and no one could answer the question. He was brought back and a heavier brace applied. All seemed well until 6 days later, I was woken at 3.30am and found this…..
a perfect cast sitting on his pillow and he seemed relatively happy that it was no longer on. He couldn’t remember how he got it off. To everyone who deals with him, it remains the eighth mystery of the world.
You would think I would know better, this is a sentence I repeat over and over. For instance newly married we stupidly believed if we work hard, save a few euro and life will run smoothly. Rubbish. The government simply creates new fiendish taxes and we are caught in a loop.
Life is what you make of it – true. But if you keep your life simple and try to help others, everyone thinks you are amazing until you have that one mili second of a slip up and you are the worlds worst ejit.
If it throws lemons – make lemonade. – Difficult but possible. Then the stupid government discovers you made lemonade and they tax it.
Smile and the whole world smiles with you. – No, they simply look at you and wonder why is that idiot is smiling? Is she laughing at me? Either way you, the smiler are in big trouble – Run.
All in all it leads to the same thing – I should know better. In fact I should do what Bob does, nothing and live in the moment. In other words dream!
I believed, stupidly, that life would get easier as we age.
This is not the case and no one escapes, in this writers life.
I always wanted to write, that is a given with me, so I blog.
I am not competitive but have learned that button once pushed does not easily switch off. I try to get to the gym 2 or 3 times a week, to offset the bad habits I have i.e. slouching over a computer screen, and the inherited family traits of heart disease, diabetes, epilepsy and high blood pressure. And have discovered it is addictive, sociable and exhausting but good.
As kids, we were brought up believing it is good to give back, so I volunteer.
I work with Ellie, who being a collie is all about being busy. Working with her led me to find a lab who also likes to work and now she has two sons who live to find anything I care to hide.
I almost forgot, I work not a full week but I work and now help to take care of Dad.
Add that into the mix along with a reluctance to say no and there is an explosion waiting to happen.
So I have decided to cut back but on what? Housework is the tempting answer to that question, but I am a woman and we are programmed to only ignore the dust for so long.
Yes, this simple life I crave is a dream.
So any suggestions or advice would be gratefully received, mulled over and … tried out for a month or two.