A Tough Week
Wed., November 23, 04:59 PM
There are times when you just know that’s the way it’s gonna be. Maybe it begins when you realize that your bipolar child is moving toward the down side again. It’s not going to change things as much as it’s just going to be harder to slog through.
It continues when you get a Sunday morning phone call from the west coast, and you find out that another aunt has died. Not that I didn’t expect it, it’s still a wrench. Out of my mother’s five siblings, only one is left. She’s “the baby,” just fifteen years older than I. Her son is moving her from assisted to custodial care, as she’s losing touch with reality and has just broken another bone. I’m feeling really old.
After working longer hours last week – because Bosslawyer forgets to plan for his deadlines – I would have been happy to take this week off. I will, however, work two days. I seem to get just as tired sitting in the office as I would staying home and doing something more physical. I went home Monday planning to cook. I had my lunch, lay down on the couch, and slept for four hours. It ain’t right.
I was almost late to work on Tuesday morning because I was online at home, printing out the office e-mails. (The office computer is a story unto itself.) It poured last night, and we were only supposed to have residual showers. The skies opened up as I pulled out of the garage, and by the time I got to the office, there was thunder as well. This is November, isn’t it?
On the agenda for Tuesday afternoon: cranberry chutney and, with some additional luck, pastry dough. I’m going to try for the pie on Wednesday, so the worst case scenario is dough Wednesday morning and actual pie in the evening.
Then, as usual, there is Husband. We are going to M.D. and Son-in-Law this year, and Son will drive us. Husband tends to be uncomfortable anywhere except in his own space; if it’s strangers, he’ll just keep quiet, but at the home of family, he will sit and grumble.
Added to the usual snags is Husband’s feet. They have been swollen since last summer; doctors have told me there isn’t much they can do. Blood thinners and water pills keep things moving. If he could move around a little more… but his lungs are so bad that he can’t. If he would elevate his feet… but he doesn’t want to. (He pulls them back as soon as I leave the room, because if no one saw it, it didn’t happen.)
So I bought him a couple of pairs of new slippers, since I don’t know if he’ll ever get his feet into shoes again. One pair is the backless style he likes, but it’s that new material that’s supposed to mold itself to your feet. He said they didn’t fit, so I agreed to return them. Then I put the other pair on him; these are “diabetic boots,” which have lots of room and Velcro closures. Because they aren’t slip-ons, he can’t put them on without help. He hates that too, so I left the room.
In a few minutes, he had followed me out and wanted to try the other ones again. I showed him how he could stick his fingers inside and make room for his feet. Now they fit; he’ll keep them. I figure, if the weather’s bad, he can wear the boots and change into dry slippers when we get there.
Maybe I’m just whining again, but do you get the feeling that I’m still taking care of a small child? I keep reminding myself, we’re lucky that he’s with us for one more Thanksgiving. And I have no doubt that, once he gets there, he will enjoy himself.
I did get the chutney done last night. And then Husband, who doesn’t even like it, says, “are you gonna make your cranberries now?” I bring along a can of cranberry jelly for him – and he says the can is too small…
As of Wednesday morning, I have started the pastry, made spiced sweet potatoes (a favorite of Son and U.D.), and cleaned the bathroom floor. I see lunch and nap in the near future, followed by serious pie assembly.
I used to make pies before, but it was Julia Child who taught me to make it in my food processor. Some of my best baking tricks came from watching her – and I was once known for my great pastry.
What I’m mostly doing here is wishing you a happy Thanksgiving. We all have something to be grateful for. As I saw in “Kevin and Kell,” be grateful that you’re not the main dish on someone else’s table.
