Friday, May 6, 2005

 

It looks like it's going to be one hell of an MF day on Sunday, for us!

    That's "Mother Flower" day. Our irises sent up stalks almost a month ago and the pods have been developing since then. I've been concerned that the damned things weren't going to bloom, it's so late and been so cool and wet, but yesterday the first of the batch burst open. I'm nursing a white seven pointer and a purple four pointer on the dinette table with 7-Up. The third of the whites is unfolding this evening. So far only one of the purples is open but two more of the four look about ready to pop. These irises aren't the pansy florist irises. The blooms, when completely open, look like medium sized orchids, huge, frilly and inviting. Then, today, as you may have noted above, MFS, who is currently living in mystery (a mystery to us, not to her, I'm sure), sent my mother a batch of sunflowers, so fresh that they will probably peak on Mother's Day. I also know (and haven't divulged, unusual for me, as I typically can't keep a secret) that at least one other bouquet will be arriving tomorrow. My mother can never be surrounded by enough flowers and this appears to be the year that will prove this point.
    Today was a bizarre storm day. Periods of intense sun broken frequently by short, hard showers or short, hard, hail storms. Although the painfully slow encroaching low kept her down for a couple of days, she was up at 0850 this morning, earlier than me. The Little Girl awoke me to let me know Mom was in the bathroom. I cooked and baked all day to keep Mom up: A huge pot of ham and bean soup simmered on the stove for supper and I baked scones this afternoon, one lemon-blueberry-allspice batch and one orange-cranberry-nutmeg batch.
    Mom took a nap, a short one, but spent most of her time supervising my cooking and watching episodes from the first season of Murder, She Wrote. A couple of weeks ago, after having discovered that the Biography channel features the series every weekday afternoon about the time she awakens from her nap, during a commercial interrupting one of the episodes she turned to me and mentioned that if I ever notice that the series has been released "on tape", to please pick it up. A week later there it was on the video table at Costco. I'm almost sorry I purchased it for her. Although it's a pleasant enough series and I certainly appreciate its quality and unassuming uniqueness, I'm not devoted to it as I am to, say, Northern Exposure or Deep Space Nine. Now, though, not only does she insist on catching its run on television, when she can think of nothing better to do she remembers that we have the first season of the series! I noticed a few days ago that my mind is now captive to its theme. The damn thing runs through my head day and night!
    Oh, I forgot to mention, during the exam for the research study I discovered I have not yet begun to shrink, which is good news. My guess is that I am not, at the moment, at least, at risk for osteoporosis, since I certainly perform a fair amount of weight bearing exercise throughout any one week in my duties as caregiver and my calcium intake is sturdy.
    Before her next blood draw I'm going to draw up a simplified chart upon which to list and report, monthly, those areas of her life which would be of interest to her health care providers in Mesa. The purpose is to allow for condensed reportage, rather than the paragraph upon paragraph yak I faxed to Mesa last month. It'll include all the areas I mentioned in that letter as well as skin condition, sleep profile and anything unusual that's cropped up or a notation of an absence of such, if applicable. It should make it easier for them to compare, at a glance, her test results with her actual condition. I expect it will also be a valuable tool for me. Once I draw up the chart I'll publish a blank one with a link in the Special Posts links to the right, in case anyone want to print it out for their use. We've got a blood draw coming up next week, so it should be available soon.
    Without ado...
    ...later.

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