Wednesday, June 20, 2007
The verdict is in.
I am more pleasantly social and enjoy my socializing more on St. John's Wort. The difference was noticeable. The friends who visited had mentioned a few weeks ago that I sound "great", which I clearly hadn't the last time we'd been with them in December; although I certainly enjoyed myself last year at Christmas. It was a rather abrupt holiday, though and I was self-satisfactorily abrupt with it.
Everyone was in good spirits, including Mom. Perhaps that's part of the social trick of St. John's Wort: It drapes everything in gauze. Seemed to work for everyone today, though.
Mom didn't arise as early as she thought she would, although I called her every half hour from her "break point", which she chose as 0900. She was, though, was up well before noon. Short bath...she was excited to get to company. Eccentric eating, her favorite type, all day, including for supper. Last night she requested that I boil an egg for this morning, but not to bother with the bacon, as she would just have "peach pie [home made, by me, it was delicious and beautiful] and an egg," for breakfast. Her final decision was that the egg "wasn't necessary". I went with it. For lunch she had some baked corn chips and a hearty, garlicky salsa. For dinner she had a roasted chicken croissant sandwich, some more chips and salsa and we finished up the peach pie.
I suppose I should start taking stats again. Just for the record.
Although my friends and I spent most of our time while Mom slept wandering around the yard, front and back, once Mom was up we were all stationed in the dinette and living room for most of the visit. The younger of the friends discovered both the stamping kit and card making kit and set about to spend some time designing a couple of cards. My mother looked on with interest and enthusiasm at what could be done with "her" kits; but didnt deign to join, even when encouraged. The episode was like all those evenings when my born in to family was together and my mother would experiment, using us kids and our friends, with new art and creative media she was considering using in the classroom. I would guess that there were at least two projects every three weeks. Somehow the neighborhood would be alerted and friends would stop by for the evening. Truth be told, an assortment of neighborhood kids were usually at our house every night of the week. Our home, although, as most homes, treacherous, to some extent, to it's children, as much more kid friendly than most homes in any area in which we lived, probably because my mother and, ambivalently, my father, loved hosting a kid friendly home and loved kids.
Mom would explain as much as she knew about that night's medium, provide all the materials and tools necessary/available and we'd have at it. Sometimes she'd join in but mostly she'd observe and supervise, as she would be, directing these activities in the classroom. The similarity between today and these long ago evenings was so strong I even mentioned and described them while company was here. Everyone beamed.
Mom does do well for an audience...although she was clearly exhausted and tired this evening. I think she took a two hour nap after they left. I admit to having taken a nap, too. The house is ready to close up, though. I am ready for bed.
I'm reading a book sent to me by one of my sisters, one that was mentioned to me by a reader a couple of weeks prior to my sister sending the book, out of the blue. It took me a day to get into it, but I am, now. My curiosity was piqued because of the title: Mothering Mother. If you're a fairly regular reader, you know how I feel about what the title implies. I will be writing about the book, probably soon...it's not very long or dense and is designed in a series of short vignettes arranged what I imagine may have been intuitively, almost like flash fiction; designed for caregivers: Easy to pick up and put down. I think I've read a little over 60 pages of this short book. I timed myself reading the vignettes: About 1 to 1.5 minutes apiece. Very thoughtfully produced.
The reader admitted to mentioning the book to me because of the title, my "known" leanings in this area, thus is interested to see what I think of the book. I was waiting for it to arrive at our library when one of my sisters sent it to me, autographed by the author, with whom she talked on her lunch hour during Carol O'Dell's book tour, which happened to alight at the bookstore wherein MFS is employed. I don't know how widely it will sell or how well it will eventually be reviewed by "the critics". From the way I'm reacting to the book and the impressions I'm having, I can't say I'll review the book, although I will write about it when I'm done. It's a first edition, hard cover, autographed copy. My sister and others know how I covet such books. So far so, hmmm...well, it's interesting, and well written.
Despite today's nap, I'm ready for bed.
Later.
Everyone was in good spirits, including Mom. Perhaps that's part of the social trick of St. John's Wort: It drapes everything in gauze. Seemed to work for everyone today, though.
Mom didn't arise as early as she thought she would, although I called her every half hour from her "break point", which she chose as 0900. She was, though, was up well before noon. Short bath...she was excited to get to company. Eccentric eating, her favorite type, all day, including for supper. Last night she requested that I boil an egg for this morning, but not to bother with the bacon, as she would just have "peach pie [home made, by me, it was delicious and beautiful] and an egg," for breakfast. Her final decision was that the egg "wasn't necessary". I went with it. For lunch she had some baked corn chips and a hearty, garlicky salsa. For dinner she had a roasted chicken croissant sandwich, some more chips and salsa and we finished up the peach pie.
I suppose I should start taking stats again. Just for the record.
Although my friends and I spent most of our time while Mom slept wandering around the yard, front and back, once Mom was up we were all stationed in the dinette and living room for most of the visit. The younger of the friends discovered both the stamping kit and card making kit and set about to spend some time designing a couple of cards. My mother looked on with interest and enthusiasm at what could be done with "her" kits; but didnt deign to join, even when encouraged. The episode was like all those evenings when my born in to family was together and my mother would experiment, using us kids and our friends, with new art and creative media she was considering using in the classroom. I would guess that there were at least two projects every three weeks. Somehow the neighborhood would be alerted and friends would stop by for the evening. Truth be told, an assortment of neighborhood kids were usually at our house every night of the week. Our home, although, as most homes, treacherous, to some extent, to it's children, as much more kid friendly than most homes in any area in which we lived, probably because my mother and, ambivalently, my father, loved hosting a kid friendly home and loved kids.
Mom would explain as much as she knew about that night's medium, provide all the materials and tools necessary/available and we'd have at it. Sometimes she'd join in but mostly she'd observe and supervise, as she would be, directing these activities in the classroom. The similarity between today and these long ago evenings was so strong I even mentioned and described them while company was here. Everyone beamed.
Mom does do well for an audience...although she was clearly exhausted and tired this evening. I think she took a two hour nap after they left. I admit to having taken a nap, too. The house is ready to close up, though. I am ready for bed.
I'm reading a book sent to me by one of my sisters, one that was mentioned to me by a reader a couple of weeks prior to my sister sending the book, out of the blue. It took me a day to get into it, but I am, now. My curiosity was piqued because of the title: Mothering Mother. If you're a fairly regular reader, you know how I feel about what the title implies. I will be writing about the book, probably soon...it's not very long or dense and is designed in a series of short vignettes arranged what I imagine may have been intuitively, almost like flash fiction; designed for caregivers: Easy to pick up and put down. I think I've read a little over 60 pages of this short book. I timed myself reading the vignettes: About 1 to 1.5 minutes apiece. Very thoughtfully produced.
The reader admitted to mentioning the book to me because of the title, my "known" leanings in this area, thus is interested to see what I think of the book. I was waiting for it to arrive at our library when one of my sisters sent it to me, autographed by the author, with whom she talked on her lunch hour during Carol O'Dell's book tour, which happened to alight at the bookstore wherein MFS is employed. I don't know how widely it will sell or how well it will eventually be reviewed by "the critics". From the way I'm reacting to the book and the impressions I'm having, I can't say I'll review the book, although I will write about it when I'm done. It's a first edition, hard cover, autographed copy. My sister and others know how I covet such books. So far so, hmmm...well, it's interesting, and well written.
Despite today's nap, I'm ready for bed.
Later.
