Husband’s hearing aids are the sort that are battery operated. At least once a week he has to replace the batteries, those tiny round ones that come in a round plastic case and that are impossible to remove from their packaging. Husband has very poor fine motor skills at this point, and it has become increasingly difficult to change the batteries. I am always worried he will drop one and a dog will swallow it.
We decided it was time to move up to rechargeable hearing aids. We visited an audiologist last week and ordered these high tech, state of the art hearing aids. They come in a nice red color that are easy to see when not in his ears. They are somehow hooked up to an AI program that causes them to mainly pick up sound from the dominant environmental sound source. They sound so wonderful I almost want to give them names and have a welcome home party. They also cost a bundle, so Husband better not lose them.
I find the emerging AI presence in our world disturbing, but I can see the benefit if used for things like hearing aids. We pick them up next week in Sioux Falls. I hope they live up to their hype.
I am giggling. On Monday afternoon, Husband was in the driveway seasoning his new automatic charcoal smoker/grill, when the neighbor across the street came over to talk. She is a couple of years older than I am, and I was a high school classmate of her younger sister. Our mothers were in the same sewing club. Her family owned the Old Norwegian Boarding House in Luverne in the early years of the 20th century. Her son recently fixed our tires.
Mary asked Husband anxiously how I was doing, as another neighbor, someone we only met once, told her he heard that I had been diagnosed with dementia.
Well, this was quite a surprise! Husband had me come out to reassure Mary that I was fine, and in possession of all my faculties. She gave me an enormous hug, and said she would go have a little talk with the neighbor to let him know he was wrong, and that he had probably mixed me up with another close neighbor who actually has been diagnosed with Alzheimers. We walk our dogs with that woman, whose name is Jeanette. Her husband is a Vietnam Vet with MS and Agent Orange issues.
This is a small town. I am curious if any other residents have heard I have dementia, and how I should address it. Start reciting facts and figures? Wear a sign that says “I am cognitively intact”? Maybe I can act outrageously in public and everyone will forgive me!
How would you manage a situation like this? Ever been the subject of a rumour?
Our CeskyTerriers were initially bred to work together in a pack hunting vermin. They are much different than other terriers who tend to be independent operators. We had Welsh Terriers who would dart out the front door and be off exploring at any opportunity. Our Ceskys stay home because they are pack dogs, and we are members of their pack. Stay with your pack!
It has been fascinating watching Kyrill, our 4 year old Cesky adapt to having a Cesky puppy in the pack. Over the past three weeks he has become increasingly solicitous and protective of Mitzi. He allows her to chew on and tug at his beard. She allows him to roll her over and drag her around. They snuggle up together and snooze on the sofa. They are starting to share their chews and toys.
I am an only child. I have no idea what it would be like to have either younger or older siblings around all the time. I see interesting parallels between how Kyrill and Husband, also an oldest brother, take care of the puppy. Husband seems to worry about how she is doing far more than I do, although we are both attentive to her. It is fun to be a member of a pack.
Who is in your pack? How do you think birth order affected how you deal with people and family?
In the last month we have had numerous workers in our home to replace the dishwasher, stove, and microwave, as well as to do some minor plumbing as we had one toilet replaced and a hot water shut off valve replaced under the kitchen sink. We also had new smoke detectors installed and a new electrical outlet installed for the new stove. The old outlet was a 110, and the new stove required a 220.
We have been very happy with all the workers who have come to the house. I was most delighted, though, with the plumber. He was a fully credentialed professional plumber, but he looked as though he was 16 years old.
I asked him if people often remarked that he looked too young to be a plumber. This was evidently a touchy subject with him since he told me that he is always told this, and it was really annoying. “People tell me I look like I am 18. I am 21 years old!” I suggested that it might help if he grew a beard. He said that he had inherited his father’s inability to grow much facial hair, so that wasn’t a solution.
People assumed that I was older than I was when I was a child and teen because I was tall for my age. I didn’t mind, but it meant that people often expected more from me than I was capable of. Now I just hope I look younger than I am.
Do you look your age? Do you act your age? Had any home repairs lately?
This post title comes from tim, who commented that having one dog makes it your boon companion, but having one more dog means you have “two damn dogs”.
We picked up our second dog, a 12 week old female Cesky Terrier, from her breeder last week Thursday in Kansas City. Our 4 year old male Cesky is from the same breeder. He is located in Oklahoma City, but was at a dog show in KC, so we met him there. I had never been in Kansas City or at a dog show before. We met the breeder back in the grooming area where there were dogs of every size and breed. It was quite fun. He is a very responsible breeder, and the two top Ceskys at the Westminster dog show this year were his. He also breeds Soft Coated Wheaten Terriers.
We drove to KC on Wednesday and drove back to Luverne on Thursday. Mitzi, the new puppy, was a good traveller. We also transported a year old Cesky girl named Secret to Luverne to get her to a Manitoba woman who is a dog trainer and Junior Dog handler trainer. The woman had been at Mayo for hand surgery and met us in Luverne Friday morning. We picked up our Cesky boy, Kyrill, from the boarding kennel on Friday morning as well. Our main goal in getting another dog was to provide him with more socialization and activity. It has been working like a charm. He is 30 lbs and she is 3 lbs but they race, chase, and tumble. They love playing indoors and outdoors. They steal each other’s toys and chews. She is a sweet but spicy little thing who doesn’t seem to mind him running her over. She puts herself at a distance from him and then charges into him. He doesn’t seem to mind. They exhaust one another in the best way.
We are sort of crate training her. I mean “sort of” because she sleeps with me and Kyrill in the guest room so I can let her out in the night when she stirs to go potty every three hours or so. Wednesday night she made it six hours before I I had to take her outside. Kyrill isn’t too sure he likes her next to him in bed with us, but she snuggles by me out of his space. I predict in a month they will snuggle together.
Having a puppy in the house is like having a new baby in the house, and we are pretty tired. She is so sweet and is going to be as much of a soul mate as Kyrill is. I am really glad we have two dogs. We don’t just have two terriers. We are dog people now.
Ever been to Kansas City or at an animal show? Tell about your favorite/troublesome dogs.
I grew up in the Lutheran church we attend now. I sang in the church choir from Grades 9-12. It was a vibrant musical community. The organist, Mrs Olson, played every Sunday for decades.
We were very active in choir and bells at our ND church, and performed almost every week. It was a shock to find that our new church choir only sings for major holidays like Easter and Christmas. They have bells, but no bell choir. There is a very good guitar/piano/ vocal group that plays every Sunday, and an occasional organist. While they play fairly traditional hymns, they also play a lot of contemporary Christian music, which I don’t care to hear. It is so lacking in substance.
The big problem for the our church music now is that the long-term choir and bell director recently died. She was in her 90’s. There isn’t anyone to take her place. The old organist is still alive, but she is almost 100.
We started choir rehearsals for Easter last week. I hadn’t sung in a choir since we moved. It was such a relief to be able to sing. I didn’t realize how much I missed it, and how important it is for me to perform with others. We will play bells in September at the 75th anniversary celebration of our church’s founding. They have commisdionwd a piece from a composer at St. Olaf. I hope that can morph into more regular ringing.
What activities are essential for your quality of life and well being? What musical groups have you participated in?
The CDS (Cat Distribution System) is working its way in our family this month.
A couple of weeks ago our daughter in Washington State told us about this cat that suddenly appeared on the second floor deck of her apartment. She is on the top floor of her building. The cat had descended from the roof. It hung around on her deck for a while and then climbed back on the roof. Daughter put out a cushion for it to sleep on. She didn’t see it again, though.
The cat made another appearance outside the front door of her apartment a couple of days ago. The apartments are all accessable from the outside stairs. He was crying and wanting inside the apartment next door, but no one answered when Daughter knocked. She let the facility management know, and then put out water for him, which he drank. He let her a little nearer to him him and seemed to want love and pets. Her next goal is to get him into a carrier and have him checked by a vet for a microchip. He is a longer haired tortoiseshell.
Daughter already has two cats, but the way she talks about her visitor makes me think she will keep him if she can. Husband, Son, Daughter in law, and I were all on the texts about this cat, all of us hoping she could catch and keep him or else find his people. Almost all of our cats have been rescues from town or from Daughter’s best friend’s ranch in the ND Badlands. Son found our cat, Luna, under a deck in Brookings as an abandoned kitten nine years ago. Our first cat in ND just showed up at our front door one Halloween, and we took her in. Son considered getting a purebred Maine Coon as his next cat until he realized they cost a couple of thousand dollars. Cat rescue is best. Even better is when a cat chooses you!
What animals have you rescued? Favorite cat songs and art? How do you feel about cats as pets?
I just received notice that my 50th High School Class Reunion will held next September. Current plans are to meet at a local pub/brewery one night, and then at The Lake, aka the Old Creamery Pond, the next night for a bonfire and gathering.
We were a class of about 190. I have no idea how many of us are left. I missed the reunion 10 years ago as we were just getting back from a trip to Europe with our kids. I haven’t run into any former classmates who live in town since we moved here, although I know there are a few. I have encountered a couple of our very aged, but hale, former high school teachers. Our soon to be housemate is a classmate. The local paper makes a big deal over reunions and takes group photos of celebrating classes.
I am so curious to see how everyone has aged, and if we recognize each other. I am also curious how much longer the poor souls who have been in charge of planning these get togethers are going to be sufficiently healthy and willing to continue doing so in ten more years.
Have you attended any high school reunions? If so, tell how they went. If why not?
I have been reading with some amusement and sympathy for our East Coast fellow citizens dealing with the reality of snowstorms. I can’t imagine having to manage something like that with no experience. It would be like me having to prepare for and sit through a hurricane.
I was very tickled by the NYT cooking site yesterday posting a number of recipes titled “Cooking For The Storm”. If you have to stay in you might as well cook, was their attitude. They highlighted lots of filling soups, pastas, and stews. There was no mention of making a mad dash to the store for provisions, however.
My mother was a very dedicated Grade 3 teacher who didn’t like to cook. If we had to stay at home due to bad weather she always made rather complicated waffles that called for the eggs to be separated and the whites beaten into a meringue and folded into the batter. I absolutely loved them. We called them “Blizzard Waffles”, and I made them for years until I moved on to Husband’s sourdough discard waffles. They are the best.
In our ND town, the minute bad weather was predicted the main grocery store would be overrun with customers stocking up before the storm hit. I have yet to experience this in our MN town, but I imagine it is the same here.
Husband and I seem to go to the grocery store every day for one thing or another, but in a pinch we could manage for weeks with what we have in our fridge, freezers, and pantry. As long as the power stays on and the larder is full, how fun to be snowed in!
Quick! A blizzard is coming! How will you prepare? What do you need to get at the store? Any advice forEasterners on how to deal with the snow?
It has been nice since moving to our new town to run into people I remember from growing up here. One comment I hear from many people is “You sure look like your mother!” That sits ok with me, although I hope their memories of her are from decades before she died at age 91. I know the move has taken its toll, but I hope I don’t look ancient.
A photo of me at age one year shows me looking a lot like my dad. As I aged, my face grew less round and more elongated. Now I look like my mother’s side of the family, especially my Hamburg great grandmother’s family. The women were tall. My mother’s mother was 6 feet tall. My dad was several inches shorter than my mom, and I hit the mean in between their heights.
Our children look like my side of the family, but with Husband’s curly hair. Flat feet run in both my and Husband’s families. Both our children inherited that. Both are tall (Daughter is 6’1”, and Son is 6’4″). Our grandchildren resemble their East Indian mother, although both are going to be quite tall. Son lamented that he looks like the 16th century Dutch guys in the paintings in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. Sometimes you can’t escape your genetics.
Who do you look like? What traits have you inherited?
Trail Baboon 