Spiritual Sunday - Reflection

Yesterday we celebrated Thanksgiving with husband's family mainly to give me more time to gather strength after the surgery and also for the sake of our daughter and son-in-law who had celebrated Thursday with his family.

We chose to have the dinner at MIL's house, wanting to see how much FIL actually remembered about the house he built and lived in since 1962 thus seeing how far his dementia had progressed. None of us have visited him for over a month now since MIL developed shingles and then broke her humerus. Interesting enough, having the caretakers tell him that MIL had been there the day before satisfied him.

So BIL went to MIL's house last weekend and cleaned and moved furniture around. Hubs went Friday to steam clean the carpets and finish helping MIL set everything up. Between BIL and me (with the help of hubs and kids) we did all the cooking and brought everything in, making enough for leftovers for MIL (we made her individual meals using the food saver so all she had to do to reheat a meal was to poke a hole in the package then zap it in the microwave. We wrapped each package to include a meat, potato, and a vegetable.)

As I reflect on yesterday's events, I can't help but remember prior Thanksgiving dinners. As a young child, you just attend and play. As we age, we are given more responsibility that might include washing the dishes, etc. Then we begin bringing dishes and in the blink of an eye, you are the one responsible for making sure the entire dinner goes off - the ring leader so to speak.

Yesterday reminded me of a 3 ring circus. I sat at the dining room table right off the kitchen and kept an eye on the living room with MIL, making sure she was comfortable, etc, and directed the different areas. I thought BIL cooked. He does but with his wife's precisely written instructions and detail including everything put into baggies and labeled A, B, C, D, etc. On each label is also what to do with the ingredients within that baggie. She had everything so spelled out for him, it was idiot proofed. That's how he cooks. Not so good in directing this person in how I cook - by how it looks. But he was all I had so I directed and he followed his directions and then mine to time everything to come out together.

Hubs and son went and picked up FIL, telling him they were taking him to dinner. When they pulled up to the house, he asked whose house it was. Hubs distracted him by saying it was where they were having dinner, hoping something might trigger his memory once inside. Didn't happen. FIL did recognize MIL but it wasn't a really good day for FIL. His memory retention was shorter than normal and he was stuck in the 1940's. MIL was trying to hold it together and not cry that her husband of over 60 years didn't even recognize his own home. She also would try not to flinch when he would try to hug her and hit her broken arm because that meant repeating the entire story about what was wrong. So a diversion was needed in that room to keep MIL from breaking down and FIL from wigging us all out with his unrelenting repeat of the same questions. But the day went well and we delivered FIL back to his group home without incident.

So for one day in the life of a family trying to go on and maintain family tradition post surgery, post fractured humerus, and with a dementia patient, I think it went well.

It's funny how the dementia mind works. I think I said his memory yesterday was only of his wife and not the house or any one of us. After dinner, FIL got up to go to the bathroom. The home has 2 bathrooms - one close to the table and the other at the back of the house behind the garage - one he added on with a shower and it is the one hubs' family always considered to be the 'pooping' bathroom because it had a fan in it. So hubs starts to take FIL to the bathroom nearest to the table and FIL stops him and whispers to hubs: "I have to go to the pooping bathroom."

I think we all lost it then. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, it was only his wife and the pooping bathroom he remembered the entire day.

Another Thanksgiving reflection and memory added. Wonder when I get that age, what I will remember...............

Happy Thanksgiving

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice.
~Meister Eckhart

As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.
~John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Thanksgiving Day comes, by statute, once a year; to the honest man it comes as frequently as the heart of gratitude will allow.
~Edward Sandford Martin

To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven.
~Johannes A. Gaertner

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
Have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
And your pies take the prize,
And may your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off your thighs!
~Author Unknown

We are having a low key Thanksgiving today - just cappelletti. Saturday we celebrate with inlaws with more cappelletti and a full turkey dinner we will take to MIL's house. Have a great Thanksgiving no matter when yours is!

My Ring is Stuck aka Elderly Panic Attack

I had surgery this past Friday. Last night I was exactly 3 days postop and still am not allowed out of bed except to go to use the bathroom. Otherwise, my life consists of the 4 walls of my bedroom, the 4 walls of my bathroom, my TV, my TiVo, my bed table, and a few things I have been working on for the office - only certain things my husband doesn't think are too taxing for me. He forgot one thing. His mother.

Last night I had not one, not 2, but 17 phone calls from MIL. She is the one who has a compression fractured humerus from last week's episode of raking leaves off the bushes. It's been bad enough that she told her other son I wouldn't buy her a large ice pack (she's the one who told me she had 10 of them at her home) and I wouldn't do her dishes for her, or do this or that or whatever. It's not nice to mess with a crabby woman in pain and who isn't allowed to do anything. BIL got the end of my tongue and quietly went away and hasn't said boo to me since.

Not so lucky with MIL. Hubs and I had her checked out in the ER to make sure she didn't suffer a concussion or have another stroke. But if I have to keep putting up with her antics, there is something wrong with either her or me and one of us is going down.

I am bedridden for a bit. MIL knows this. So MIL starts calling me last night wanting me to come right over. I say I can't and ask why.

MIL: "I can't get my ring off my finger."
Me: "You remember I had surgery and am not allowed to leave my bedroom, right? So how can I come over?"
Me: "So what finger? Do you usually take the ring off at night?"
MIL, losing patience with me: "I.cannot.get.my.ring.off.of.my.finger."
Me: "I understand you can't get your ring off your finger. You don't have to speak slow for me to understand that. Now what finger is your ring on?"
MIL: "It's on the finger on my hand."
Me: "Good. Now which hand?"
MIL: "The arm you say I broke. The doctor was probably a quack and you are paying him off just to keep me away from my husband. What's wrong with dad? What haven't you told me?"
Me: "Now, first of all, the emergency room doctor AND an orthopedic doctor and an x-ray all confirmed that your arm was broken. Neither doctor is a fake. I am not paying anyone to keep you away from your husband. Let's get back to the ring. Now you said the ring is on the same arm that you broke? Have you tried to take it off before now?"
MIL: "You just don't understand."
Me: "Well, I guess not. But your son is due home soon and I will have the distinct pleasure of having him call you."
Click.

We went over this ever few minutes. It would vary in that she would add the shingles into the conversation and wondered if the shingles were causing her not to be able to take off the ring. (Yeah she is now admitting she has shingles).

I finally concluded that she was having an anxiety attack and irregardless of anything I said to her, nothing was going to help. She then said she was going to the basement and cut off the ring.

I stopped that by saying if she did then I was calling 911 on her and have her committed to a psych ward.

Hubs came home and took over. He called. She got the ring off by icing it (like I told her to) and using Windex to coat the finger (yeah Windex works way better than soap or oil).

Crisis adverted. Thus begins another day.

'Honey Do' Men - Are They Real?

A friend of mine posted a few days ago about the 'Honey Do List' and how nothing ever goes away from it. She decided to just do some of the things herself. That's what usually happens here too.

Her post got me to thinking - no seriously - a business where men, okay good looking men, would listen to us and would fix anything we want done. Nice fantasy - about as real as my own husband doing anything on his 'Honey Do List'.

The men wouldn't even have to be nice looking as long as there was no plumber's crack, and they cleaned up after themselves and put things back to where I wanted them. No - it would be nice for them to be hunks but that's asking a whole lot. I just want some things done.

So I am assuming everyone here knows what a 'Honey Do List' is, right? Well, for those who don't - it's a list of chores assigned by one's spouse, sweetheart, mate, etc. Both men and women actually use this term but both use it way differently although the results still seem to be the same. Either way, we know the person wants or needs something. So soon as we start hearing tho 1st three letters (hon), we know to start looking for a way out. You can see it in the eyes of the guy. Laugh and watch.

So where did this 'Honey Do List' come from? How does it start? We know it is a list of chores or projects that we want our spouse, mate, or lover to take care of. It’s not that we can’t take care of ourselves. It’s just that we think they should do it. The mentality is “I do enough. So this is your share”.

Don't you ever wonder why the list continues to get longer rather than getting accomplished? People say that the reason for this is because it’s a chore list and has no value to the person who has to accomplish the chore.

This is why we need 'Honey Do Men'!

So I am taking applications. Please apply here. I will test you first on my chores and see how you do and yes, check for the butt crack. If you pass my examinations, I will pass your name on to the whole wide web! Just think, a man pleasing all those women!

Spiritual Sunday - Gratitudes or Giving Thanks

Recently on Facebook, I had a friend post a challenge for everyone. I already do this but I think most of us need to be reminded to do it every day of their lives. Her challenge was to think of just one thing every day this month that you are thankful for and post it in your status.

Easy you say? Well, you are wrong. The longer you do it, the harder it gets. Oprah, a few years ago, had a show on gratitude and challenged everyone to do much of the same thing. I started doing it years ago - back when I was in college and wondering if I was ever going to reconcile with my family again or forgive my father for being an alcoholic and my mother for being passive aggressive and my family for not believing their own sister.

After a while, I learned that giving thanks or saying gratitudes changes you. It makes you see the little things and believe me, there are days you have to really search for a gratitude. It forces you to look for everything good in your life and yes, even when things are at the worst, there are good things there - things to be thankful for. It's those bad things that you handle that make you what you are and teach you how to go on each day, sometimes each hour, and sometimes each moment, looking for something good. So even those bad things turn into good things.

Now I take the rosary and at night, I alternate saying the Hail Mary with saying a gratitude. Those of you who are familiar with the rosary know there are 5 sets of 10 or 50 Hail Mary's, so I instead say 25 Hail Mary's and 25 gratitudes. Every single time I do this, my outlook and attitude change for the better. I am more appreciative of what I have.

Yes, even now as I am parked on my rear, I am grateful that I am alive and have a wonderful husband who anticipates my needs and helps me while I am laid up. I am grateful the Lord decided to keep me around a wee bit longer. I am grateful I have you my readers, to read the writings of a sometimes rambling woman. I am grateful I have chosen good employees who have become family and who will carry on with the offices and do a great job.

Stop and think of what makes you grateful. Look at the little things. Start small and think of one thing per day that you are grateful for. Try not to repeat. The more you look, the more your own attitude changes to that of a positive one.

Saying thank you is more than good manners. It is good spirituality.
~Alfred Painter

Gratefulness is the key to a happy life that we hold in our hands, because if we are not grateful, then no matter how much we have we will not be happy -- because we will always want to have something else or something more.
~Brother David Steindl-Rast

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.... It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow.
~Melodie Beattie

Ankle Surgery #4

Yep, I had ankle surgery again yesterday which is why I didn't post as I didn't get home until late and frankly I crawled upstairs and went to bed.

The docs went in a bit blind this time, going only on my symptoms and the fact that during a fluoroscopic examination last Saturday and after the docs gave me a local anesthetic into the joint and played with the ankle and put it under stress. That is the first time they caught the slight movement on the fibula. We also identified 2 nerves that had been giving me problems.

They first did an arthroscope where they found synovitis again but not to the extent of the last surgery done 6 months ago but again enough that it was an abnormal buildup and in just 6 months time. On an normal person one wouldn't find synovitis at all. But I have never been normal. During this scope they did not find one of my nerves that went to my big toe that we knew was entrapped since I had no feeling at all in the toe. They finally found it on the lateral side of the ankle between fibula and the talus - definitely not where it was supposed to be. So they put it back in its groove.

So in the diagram above it shows 3 ligaments that are rarely torn. Again I am not normal. I tore them. In fact, after the scope, they opened up the lateral (outside of the ankle from the mid ankle to 5 inches above and found no ligaments except the one they had repaired twice (the ATF). Under the fluoroscope they were able to see the tibia and fibula and talus all moving independently of each other. Normally there are the ligaments that allow these to move with each other. Not mine - they were loosey goosey with nothing preventing the other from moving out of position. This was the reason I felt the instability but they could never find it on the MRI or any other test. Kinda felt nice to be vindicated - that it wasn't all in my mind.

So they used a synthetic tissue called Artelon to make these 2 ligaments (the anterior inferior tibiofibular ligament and the posterior inferior tibiofibular ligament. They had repaired the posterior talofibular ligament and the calcaneofibular ligaments but they had loosened up with all the other instability so they reconstructed and used the Artelon to strengthen them. They also found the other nerve I had been having problems with and found it bound down in scar tissue. They released it and hopefully scar tissue won't reform around it again.


Then they addressed the scar tissue between the tibia and fibular where the syndesmotic injury was. There was nothing viable there so they scraped all the tissues out and replaced them with the Artelon, roughing up the bone then suturing (sewing) the tissue to both bones. They then passed 2 syndesmotic screws through the fibular and through the tibia to hold it all together and let it heal in place for 8-12 weeks then remove the screws and see if I can stand. (2nd picture) If that doesn't work, I might have to have a permanent screw across the 2 bones but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

Getting used to being non-weight bearing wasn't too hard. I took a shower tonight. Trouble has been amazingly friendly and cuddly and not wanting to leave my side. Hubs finally had to physically remove him from the bathroom so I could even get into the shower. His pitiful meows could be heard for miles until I was reunited with him. He won't even let hubs come near me now.

All in all, about what I expected. Pain about what I expected. Should be able to return to work in a week from Monday. Still planning on making my first trip downstairs Wednesday to help make cappelletti, stew the chicken and then prepare Thanksgiving supper of soup and chicken. Friday I will start the turkey prep to take to inlaws house for Saturday dinner (lunch to you Yankees).

Memories

Sometimes I feel that our memories are really not based on any sort of factual occurrence. They are things, events, that have been reshaped by other events, by other wishes or desires, by other memories, by other people. They are reworked to fit into the parts of your brain in which we hold them. They are sometimes altogether different than the original reality.

My one sister thinks she was born in another family. She has no memories of when she was young. When others of us remember a funny event (like the time by brother put crackers in my Marge Simpson hairdo I was so proud of when I was a junior in high school). My sister was there - we have pictures of her there yet she doesn't remember that event.

But with every event in our lives, we look at it and say yes, it was a fun event or it was a crappy event or it was an event that seen through someone else's eyes, is way different.

My children remember things that I totally forgot or in such a way that I look at them and wonder how they ever came to that conclusion.

Did you know there are three parts of memory?
1. The first part is when you receive the memory then process it or register it.
2. Second is when you store it.
3. Third is the retrieval or recall or recollection of said memory - the part when you look back into the stored information area in response to some cue in the process of an activity.

Why do I bring this up in a blog post now? No clue. Or maybe it was hearing the song "The Way We Were" as I was listening to Barbara Streisand tonight while paying bills. It has been like a stuck needle in my brain.

Wednesday Website

Today's website is the bouncy ball game. The object is for you to design your own game field by drawing the line you think will best get the ball to the exit. Hmmmmmmmmm....those laws of physics might come in handy for this game!
www.addictinggames.com/thebouncyball2.html

Recipe Tuesday - Potato Casserole

1 (2 lb) pkg frozen hash brown potatoes
1 pint sour cream
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 stick of butter, cut up
½ stick of butter, melted
10 oz shredded cheddar cheese
1 small onion (chopped)
1 Tbsp salt
½ tsp pepper
2 cups Corn flakes, crushed

Mix together sour cream, chicken soup, cheddar cheese, onion, salt, pepper and cut up butter. Add potatoes and mix. Butter 9x13 inch casserole dish. Press potato mixture in bottom of buttered dish.

Mix together crushed corn flakes and melted butter. Add on top of potato mixture.

Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour.

First Shingles Now Compression Fracture of the Humerus

So tonight we get a phone call from MIL. She fell. At first she wouldn't tell us how or where - only that it hurt to move her arm. We had life alert installed in her house. I told her to push the button and tell them you need an ambulance to go to the ER and we would meet her there. No, she doesn't want to do that. Instead she called a neighbor to take her. He called us letting us know he was doing it. I said we would be there as soon as we finished with the patients already in the office. I then called people to let them know my husband would not be at the board meeting he was supposed to be at.

Off we go to the hospital near MIL. Of course, there is a line a mile long to just get into the ER. She complained about the line. I said that if she had taken the ambulance like I told her to, she would already be inside being treated. I asked if she told the nurse she had shingles. Of course, that didn't even occur to her to tell them because she doesn't believe she has them. (major eyeroll). So I go to the nurse's station and state that MIL has shingles. They take her back immediately which I knew they would.

3 hours later, she was diagnosed with a compression fracture of her left humerus. She was put in a sling and told to see an orthopedic surgeon this week. As I was undressing her, I noticed more shingles on her body - now on her back. She states she was just scratching and they weren't shingles. When the doctor came in to examine her, I had him look too and ask him to give her his opinion of what those were. He said Shingles - definitely. So now she has had 2 separate doctors confirm that she has them.

Want to know why or how or where she fell? She was raking the leaves off her bushes and fell backwards, hitting her head but breaking her fall with her left arm, which of course is the arm she broke.

Who in the right mind would rake leaves off of their bushes?????????

Oy Vey!

Spiritual Sunday - Perseverance

This is my word for spiritual Sunday. There have been a whole lot of times in the past couple of years that I have felt I have been hanging on by the last threads of my sanity. Why? Probably for the same reasons every single one of us go through at any given time. Why do we keep going? Why do we not give up?

I know the reasons why I don't even though I will have 'pity parties' plenty of times. But the reason I go on is knowing that 'this too shall pass' and because I am a really really stubborn obstinate person. I refuse to ever give up.

Perseverance is actually about not giving up. It’s a term for those who keep going despite difficult conditions. Many great people have shown us that the will to persevere, to keep going, despite real difficulties can result in great achievement.

I persevere with this blog just by trying to post at least a few times a week. I think the reason is more this helps me not speak to myself. So many things run through my mind and sometimes they even come out my mouth so by forcing myself to write this stuff down, it comes out halfway sane sounding or at least I hope it does.

I persevere with my messed up ankle because I know one day I will walk without pain. Many people have questioned why I stay with the same doctor. I say he's the only one outside of my husband I totally and completely trust.

So how can one persevere? This are things I do:
1. When something starts to bother you, wait as long as you can before you express frustration. I try to write it out but never give the person or thing bothering me what I write. I usually just throw it away.
2. When something doesn't work right, try again and again.
3. Don't lose your temper when something upsets you.
4. Always finish what you start.
5. Keep working at something that is difficult until you complete it.
6. Don't give up on difficult jobs or situations.
7. Focus on someone or something that ordinarily makes you lose your patience and try to understand it and don't 'lose it'.
8. Work a little harder or a few minutes longer on a task that you do not like.

The difference between perseverance and obstinacy is that one comes from a strong will, and the other from a strong won't.
-Henry Ward Beecher

Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.
-Newt Gingrich

People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them.
-G.B. Shaw

Tongue Twisters - Ankle Update

I had a doctor appointment today to set the date for my next ankle surgery that I had postponed on 9-24-09. Between him and my husband, they twisted and torqued my ankle into abnormal positions - well I thought they were but according to them, my ankle was not supposed to be able to do those movements. I still have a syndesmosis so this coming Friday will go in for another ankle surgery - this time will be to scrape out the synovitis using the arthroscopy then scrape out the crappy tissue between the tibia and fibula that has never healed, rough up the bones then suture this product called Artelon between the two, repair 2 ligaments that are never supposed to have to be repaired (I am special), then place 2 syndesmotic screws to hold the tibia and fibula together. I will then be in a non-weight bearing cast for 8-12 weeks then another surgery to remove the screws then we shall see if I can walk without pain. Would be a concept. They were initially going to do an arthrogram this morning so since I am allergic to the dye they use for that test, I premedicated myself with Benadryl. I also took a pain pill just in case since I knew they were going to be twisting my ankle trying to mimic the pain I feel every time I step down. So I was quite loopy.

My doctor I don't think noticed how loopy I was but my husband went to town with it. On the way home, he was making me say these tongue twisters - believe me speaking was more than I was capable of.

So after a 6 hour nap sleeping off the meds, here are the tongue twisters:

The sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick. (This is supposedly the hardest).

I'm not the fig plucker,
Nor the fig plucker's son,
but I'll pluck your figs
till the fig plucker comes.

I'm a sheet slitter.
I slit sheets.
I'm the sleekest sheet slitter
that ever slit sheets.

I am not a pheasant plucker,
I'm a pheasant plucker's son
but I'll be plucking pheasants
When the pheasant plucker's gone.


I am a mother pheasant plucker,
I pluck mother pheasants.
I am the best mother pheasant plucker,
that ever plucked a mother pheasant!

Yeah, you can imagine how I pronounced them!

TGIF

I don't know about you but I for one am glad to see this week over. Between the constant phone calls from MIL who thinks that she was misdiagnosed and wants us to take her to a different doctor because all her friends say that they never got the shingles on the face but on their stomach, she is now positive that these people without an MD degree have accurately diagnosed her. She is under the impression this is cruel punishment. My reply that a nursing home sounded really good to me for her about now. To say she is not a happy camper is putting it mildly.

Well, I went back to the ENT today and took my husband and son. Husband has a tampon in his ear now too for an ear infection and on antibiotics for a sinus infection. Son is just having an allergy flare.

Ankle update - will know more tomorrow. Have an appointment to have an arthrogram done and stress fluoroscopy done. Bringing my pain pills cuz I think I will need them. I have to start premedicating myself tonight because I am allergic to the dye they use in the arthrogram. I may or may not be here tomorrow, depending on how much pain I am in and how many pain pills I have in me. So I will apologize in advance if I do blog and am a bit loopy.

Have a great weekend!

Shingles

I call MIL last Sunday to find out how she is doing.

Me: "How are you? We have decided when we are getting together for Thanksgiving."
MIL: "Well, hopefully my cold sores will go away. Is there anything I should be putting on them? I have them from my mouth all the way to my ear and in my ear and now they are on my nose and up to my hair."
Me: "You have what? What do they look like?"
MIL: "They are cold sores. I know what a cold sore looks like."
Me: "One does not get cold sores in one's ear. So tell me what these things look like? Are they in a line from your mouth to your ear?"
MIL: "Well, then I have an ear infection. And they look like a cold sore starting with a blister then crusting over. Yes they are in a line but the line isn't straight but what does that have to do with anything?"
Me: "When did these 'cold sores' start?"
MIL: "I don't remember - maybe a week or so ago."
Me: "Don't go outside of the house. I will get you an appointment with the doctor tomorrow. I think you have shingles."
MIL: "Stop over-reacting. They are cold sores."
Me: "So please tell me when in your 82 years of life that you have ever had cold sores from your mouth to inside your ear - please tell me when you have ever gotten a cold sore on anywhere but on your lips or inside your mouth."
MIL: "What does that have to do with anything?"
Me: "Just do as I say - don't go see your husband - don't go anywhere - don't see anyone until I take you to see the doctor."
MIL: "Well, I have an appointment in the morning with the dentist because a cap fell off so make the doctor appointment for after that."
Me: "Cancel your dentist appointment. DO NOT GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION."

I called the doctor but couldn't get her in for an appointment until Tuesday AM. So I called her to let her know. This conversation happened when I FINALLY got ahold of her later that day.

Me: "Why haven't you been answering your phone? Where have you been?"
MIL: "I needed some things from the store then I went to the senior center for lunch then I went to see dad."
Me: "YOU DID WHAT???? WHAT PART OF DO NOT GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? You quite possibly have shingles which is highly contagious."
MIL: "You don't have to treat me like a child."
Me: "Then stop acting like one. You have an appointment with the doctor at 10:40am Tuesday. I will pick you up. Be ready. Do not step a toenail outside of your house until then."
MIL: "Well, I don't have anything else to do since I ran all my errands already."


Next day I pick her up and take her to the doctor. The above picture is the side of her face but in reality it is all over the left side of the face but in strips and along her hair line - definitely not cold sores. Anyway, at the doctor's office we go in the side door where the contagious people go in. We have to ring a doorbell to be let in then we were taken directly to a patient room. MIL thinks we just had special great service and is commenting that they should do this for all visits. I just look at her and say this is because you are contagious. This is because since you are contagious you can't be around other people. This means you are not to go out for any reason unless you are dying or bleeding and then you call an ambulance. She says I am being unreasonable and that she is the one who didn't even get a hug from me. I try again to tell her that she is contagious but she just isn't listening.

The doctor diagnosed her with shingles - she really had all the classic signs except for pain but she did have the earache. As he is examining her, she keeps touching the shingle spots and then other parts of her face (hairline, nose, ear, etc). The doctor tells her in a very nice way to stop doing that - that she is spreading the disease herself to the other spots. She then repeats that she has an earache. He looks in her ear and says you have 4 shingle blisters in your ear. Your eardrum is fine - what you are feeling is the pain from the shingle blisters and redness and a nerve pain.

In true MIL form: "Are you a real doctor?"
Doctor: "As opposed to what? A fake one?"
MIL: "You aren't a nurse are you? Or one of those assistant persons?"
Doctor: "No, I am a real honest to gosh doctor. I went to school and everything."
MIL: "Well, what medicine are you going to give me for my ear infection?"
Doctor: "You don't have an ear infection. But I am going to give you a pill to help make the shingles less painful and possible not have you break out anymore."
MIL: "My DIL (moi) says I can't go anywhere. How big is the pill? I have been putting hot oil in my ear and that makes it feel better."
Doctor: "Your DIL is right. You are contagious. You cannot go anywhere until each of those blisters crusts over which will be 2-3 more weeks. The pill is big but you can break it apart. I do not recommend putting hot oil in your ear. That is an old fashioned remedy but if it makes you feel better to fry your ear, who am I to stop you."
MIL: "2-3 weeks? That is forever. I can't stay away from my husband for that long or be inside. I have things to do."
Me: I look at the doctor, shake my head and say: "Thanks doctor, we will handle her. I will pick up the medicine since I know you have already sent it to the pharmacy."

We get back in the car. I take her to Panera to get her some soup and a couple sandwiches which I know will last her a few days. As we pull up in front of it, she starts to get out of the car. I look at her and tell her to stay in the car. I will get what she wants - that she can't go around anyone because she is contagious.

Her response: "Did he really mean that?"
I give her the look and say: "Yes, now sit down. Sit still. I will be right back."

I get her soups and sandwiches. Then I ask her if she needs anything from the grocery store knowing that she could live off her pantry for years and would just need perishables.
Her response: "You have done enough. If I need something I will run out and get it."
Me: "What part of the doctor telling you that you can't go out of the house did you not understand?"
MIL: "But it will be just a quick trip in and right out. I will be fine."
Me: "It's not you we are concerned about. It is others you are infecting. Now do you need anything?"
MIL: "Just milk."
Me: "Well, does the pharmacy have milk?"
MIL: "Yes, but don't get it if it is over $1.98. And I can go later to get my medicine."
Me: "No you can't. You can't leave your house. We will stop at the pharmacy on the way home and I will pick up your meds and milk then."

I stop at the pharmacy. I go to get out and MIL is opening her door.
Me: "What are you doing?"
MIL: "I am going in to get my medicine."
Me: "Okay I am not going to repeat myself again. DO NOT GET OUT OF THIS CAR UNLESS I TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN. SIT. SIT STILL. DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING. DON'T TOUCH YOUR FACE AND THEN TOUCH ANYTHING IN MY CAR. JUST SIT FOR GOSH SAKE."
MIL: "Okay but don't pay over $1.98 for the milk."

I picked up her medicine and her milk. No it wasn't $1.98. It was $2.28. I got in the car. I thought she was going to have a heart attack with the 30 cents difference so after listening to her for 10 minutes, I got in my purse and gave her 30 cents. She thought I should take the milk back and go to another store to make sure it wasn't cheaper there.

I pull up to her house, get out of the car and tell her she can get out now too. I pick up her medicine, the soups and sandwiches, and the milk and walk her to the house. She lets herself in. I set the things inside the door, then close it.

MIL: "Aren't you coming in?"
Me: "No, I don't want to get shingles. You can manage from here. And just to let you know, I have already called the place where dad is and they are instructed to not allow you in. I have already called your neighbors. They are to call me if you leave the house. Now are you going to stay in or do I need to take your car keys?"
MIL: "I can't even go visit dad?"
Me: "Absolutely not. He is 91 and frail. He can't afford to get sick. You are not to visit him until we say you can. You are not to go ANYWHERE for ANYTHING unless we say you can."
MIL: "But he will notice I am not there."
Me: "Mom, he will not notice anything beyond a 2 minute time period if you are lucky. He won't even know you haven't been there. If you want, you can call him but you cannot under any circumstances visit him or you will kill him."
MIL: "Are you sure that doctor was right? I can't believe I have shingles."
Me: "Well you do. Get used to it. I have to go. Don't leave this house unless you call me first."
MIL: "Okay okay." I start to walk to the car. She tries to bring me back to hug her. I once again tell her I can't hug her and that she can hug that stuffed dog that barks that she got.

So on the 45 minute drive home, I finally get ahold of her next door neighbor and let them know what is going on. They report that she left in her car not 5 minutes ago. This means that as soon as I was down the road, she went and got in her car and left the house.

I tell the neighbor to call me when she gets home. He does and I tell him to disable her car in some way and I will distract her by calling her. I have him on my cell phone and her on the home phone so he can hear when I am talking to her (a distraction so he can disable her car without her knowing or hearing).
I calmly ask her where she has been.
MIL: "Why I have been right here."
Me: "Really? I have been calling you and you didn't answer. So where did you go?"
MIL: "What do you have a spy camera watching me?"
Me: "No, you have nosy neighbors who called me the minute you left. Now where did you go?"
MIL: "I went to visit dad to let him know I can't visit him."
Me: "Did you listen to what you just said? He won't even remember 2 minutes after you told him anyway. Plus I told you not to go see him."
MIL: "Well, thanks to you, they wouldn't let me in. They told me to go back home."
Me: "Good - at least SOMEONE listens to me. Now DON'T LEAVE THE HOUSE FOR ANYTHING, NOT EVEN THE MAIL. YOUR NEIGHBOR WILL DELIVER IT TO YOUR FRONT STEP AND CALL YOU TO GET IT."

So I hear the neighbor say okay done and I end the conversation with MIL. I started taking bets with her 2 sons and my kids on how long it will take her to realize her car won't work. I said 2 hours.

I won. She says she is going to disinherit me. I said "that's fine. I didn't want any of your money anyway. Now stay inside and get better."

Did I also mention that if I told her once I must have told her a zillion times not to touch her hands to her face then touch me or anything in my car? I was beginning to question who has the dementia. I think at one point I also threatened her with going into a nursing home. I know she told me that I didn't have that power. I said just push me a bit more and we shall see who has the power.

Oh and after I left her house, I emptied a whole can of lysol spray in the car and all surfaces. When hubs got home later, he emptied another whole can of lysol spray in the car.

oy vey!

Wednesday Websites

Over the years others have given us lists of the 7 greatest man-made wonders of the world. This website allows you to vote for the new 7 wonders: http://www.vote7.com/n7w

This is a funny website - you get to learn how to write in "Ooblgshezi". What? You don't know what that word means? Well, for those of you who don't. it is the trick of using numbers upside down to 'spell words'. For example: sell = 7735 and google is 376006. When I was young a long long long time ago, my girlfriends and I developed out own language so we could write in our diaries or notes to each other without anyone knowing what we wrote. I came across one of those notebooks a few years ago and I had no clue to what I had written - I finally figured out that I had taken the alphabet and moved all letters 3 spaces to the left and then used that letter to say a word (say I wanted to use the letter I - I would instead use the letter g and so on. Of course none of the words made sense unless you knew how to decode it. So if you do invent your own language, make sure you write the code down somewhere for when you are old old old and want to remember what you were thinking back then. Oh yeah, the website is : www.langmaker.com/calculatorwords.htm

Who can interpret this: 0.7734 6078 1 <3 5376616

Recipe Tuesday - Cranberry Salads for Thanksgiving

Every year my side of the family makes cranberry salad from scratch - both the cooked version and the jelled or cold version. My inlaws make the cooked version with a twist, so over the 30 some years and since I am now the chief cook for one side and our house, I have combined both cooked recipes into one yet kept the jelled or cold version and make that too. When my daughter first went to her inlaws for Thanksgiving, she could not believe they opened a can of what she called this wiggle crap and dared to serve it and call it cranberry sauce. She has since converted her inlaws to our recipe and to making real mashed potatoes instead of boxed mixes. She has also cooked them a real turkey (fresh instead of a frozen). She plans on making real stuffing instead of a box mix this year along with real gravy made from the turkey drippings instead of jar gravy.

Without further ado, here's the recipe for the cranberry salads:

Cooked Cranberry Salad
1 bag raw cranberries, washed and the mushy ones taken out
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 jar of cinnamon sticks
7-8 sprigs of orange zest (I make my own from the oranges I use in the cold cranberry salad

Boil the water with the sugar. Add the cranberries, zest, and cinnamon sticks. Boil for 10 minutes then remove from heat. Once cooled, I scrape into a serving dish and serve. Now the cinnamon sticks seep the cinnamon into the sauce and my kids and husband love to suck on the sticks to get the remaining cinnamon and sauce out of the stick.


Cold Cranberry Salad
2 Oranges (Peeled but before peeling make sure you use make the zest for the cooked version)
2 Apples (Peeled and Cored)
1 Piece of Celery
1 Qt Package of Cranberries
2 Boxes of Cherry Jell-O
3 Cups Sugar
2 Cups Hot Water

1) In serving bowl, add water to Jell-o and stir until dissolved
2) Chop oranges, apples, and celery in a grinder or food processor
3) Add sugar to chopped mixture and stir
4) Add chopped mixture to Jell-O and stir
5) Put in Icebox or frig until fully jelled and ready to serve.

Musings

Have you ever thought any of these? I have among others. And cuz it is Monday, I don't have anything else. Except for maybe old people who learn new terms and insist their children have no clue what that means and I prove them wrong - yep talking about you, 'my pretty'! (You should recognize what movie that phrase came from - your favorite, right?)

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren’t doing anything productive for the rest of the day. (Today was that day!)

Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection. I mean first it was 78's then 45's then 8 tracks then cassette tapes then microcassette tapes then VCR's then DVD's. Now there's blue rays? What is next?

I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word or Excel and it asks me if I want to save any changes that I swear I did not make any changes to. (It's one of those should I or shouldn't I? I use the save as then label it as 1 then go back and compare and find it is the same exact thing. I didn't change anything.)

"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever. (Ever)!

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damn it!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away? Or are you just getting back at me because I was in the bathroom and didn't get to the phone in time.)

I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call. (Or put people on the silent ring tone or label them as something else in Facebook so they never see me and I never see them.)

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, hitting the G-spot, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I’d bet my A** everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...

Why is there no light in the freezer? I think the freezer deserves one as well.

Spiritual Sunday - Patience

http://greatday.com/motivate/

Patience saves you money. Patience saves time, reduces stress, and improves your relationships. With patience, you have the ability to achieve things that are simply not possible without it. Using patience, you can more fully understand and be understood.

Looking at life with patience, you can uncover and experience rich treasures that you otherwise never would have known about. Living with patience, you develop the persistence to create great and valuable things.

Patience does not mean sitting back and doing nothing. On the contrary, patience means always doing the very best you can do, while understanding that the results you seek will not come immediately.

Patience is the acknowledgement that the quality of life is much more important than the quantity of things with which you fill it. Patience is the willingness to accept what is, for right now, while putting all you have into creating the best that can be.

Make the most of the many opportunities life provides for you to practice patience. With patience is your life fully and richly lived.

-- Ralph Marston

Wow....pretty powerful words. I love Ralph Marston's website and his daily posts.

"Patience is a Virtue" - any mother, any employee, any owner of a new kitten or puppy, any father, any child who thinks they want something......we all learn about patience. It isn't a habit, or something to be learned. Instead patience is a state of balance that rises simply out of understanding - a gift that comes after a period of time, struggle, perspective, judgement, and a peacefulness of the mind. Wikipedia defined it as "the state of endurance under difficult circumstances, which can mean persevering in the face of delay or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset; or exhibiting forbearance when under strain, especially when faced with longer-term difficulties. It is also used to refer to the character trait of being steadfast." For a Christian, it is one of the seven virtues that goes with chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, kindness, and humility.

I am still learning it. Somehow it pops up every single day in some way, shape, or form.

Garbage

It has come to my attention that there is a certain male-specific deficit as related to a very specific household task (note that my male specimens are actually quite adept at some household chores and these are very very appreciated. Very appreciated). I’m going to go ahead and assume it’s the genes contained in that extra arm of the X chromosome that breaks off to become a Y in the male species that causes this deficit. Both of the male specimens in my house have this deficit.

Taking out the garbage is undoubtedly the greatest threat to the harmony of any household. Especially with those male specimens who have problems with when or how frequently this should be done.

I am sure there are others in this same dilemma so I have complied some simple easy to follow instructions:

Before we start, you have to IDENTIFY and RECOGNIZE and SEE the problem. Don't wait to be reminded or nagged. Therefore if you try to put some garbage into the garbage can and it falls right out because the trash is already piled higher than the rim, do not see how high it can go. Do not ignore the garbage that is now lying on the floor. Also, this house is not a basketball court. There are no baskets here for you to try to toss your garbage into. There is no other person who is going after your missed shot. If the garbage can is filled all the way past the top, you may not throw your garbage on the counter or floor or sink instead. This should be an indication to you to take it out. Do not ever say to the female chromosome person any of the following: "I don't even use that garbage can." "It's not my turn." "I didn't see it." Instead you should be kissing the butt of the female chromosome person and saying: "Why yes, my beautiful wife/mother, I will joyfully empty the garbage can." or "My beautiful wife/mother, I took it upon myself to change the garbage when I noticed it was on the full side. Is there anything else I can do to help you to make your life easier?" Oh and if you put something really stinky in the garbage, like old food or your garlicy spicy take out dinner, please tie up the bag immediately and take it outside — even if the bag is not filled to its breaking point yet.

Okay let's get started with the instructions:

1. In order to take out your garbage, one must locate one's garbage. There is a saying: "One man's trash is another man's treasure." For the purposes of this analysis, we assume that trash is easily identifiable and stored in a centralized location in the primary living quarters. Trash that is widely distributed or not contained in a standardized refuse vessel is not considered in this list.

2. Verify garbage eligibility - in general, garbage should fill or nearly fill the primary garbage container before taking out the trash is a viable alternative. Special conditions such as excessively smelly trash or an imminent vacation should also be taken into consideration.

3. Verify that taking out the trash is a viable option - A crushing-down process could reduce the volume of garbage to the extent that taking out might be put off for a few days but that option is not allowed in this house.

4. Remove the garbage bag from the inner rigid container and seal it by tying the two red ends together tightly in a double knot. One can use their Boy Scout knotting abilities to accomplish this.

5. Transfer the garbage bag to the garage-based vessel located in the garage - the big green can with the words GARBAGE CONTAINER on its side. It is very easy to locate as it does not hide under anything. Even the chromosome deficient can easily locate it. Note this does not mean placing the plastic garbage bag next to the green container. You actually have to use your chromosome deficient arms to heft the garbage bag into the inside of the green garbage container. Please note the green garbage container has a lid. I understand this hampers you but deal with it and lift it up before placing the bag into the container and remember to close it after. Please believe me that placing this garbage bag into the container will not affect the garbage that is already in there - they will become friends.

6. Come back into the house and replace the white garbage bag in the inner rigid container and place the rigid container back into the outside silver rigid container.

7. Repeat all steps as necessary. This might mean this has to be done on a daily basis. Get used to it and stop whining.

AND NEVER EVER EVER SAY TO ME THAT IS NOT MY JOB!

Chronically Late People

My husband and I have been feuding about this for a while. I am always ready to leave the house in plenty of time to be at a certain place, leaving 15 minutes to spare for those things that come up (getting caught by a train, traffic, etc). My husband, on the other hand, is a chronically late person. Ironically enough, he was on time for our wedding and I was the one who was late - but in my defense, I was already in the car at my parent's house when his parents and grandmother showed up at our house to take pictures (they had not been invited - just showed up). So I got back out of the car and took pictures with them but I ended up being 15 minutes late then to the church.

Yesterday I told my husband what my plans were and what time I wanted to leave the house. At that exact time I was ready and had already packed the car. He hadn't even gotten into the shower. So I left and met one of my office girls for lunch. She asked how long did I think he would notice I had left. I said probably not for 30 minutes when he was finally ready. Sure enough, 30 minutes later I get a phone call from him trying to find out where I was.

It's a pet peeve of mine. I hate walking into somewhere late. I decided to do some research to get into my husband's head into reasons why he is so chronically late.

I found it is more than poor time management. Late people tend to be one of the following:
1. The rationalizer has a hard time acknowledging responsibility for lateness and tends to blame outside circumstances. Yep, sounds like my husband.

2. The producer wants to squeeze as much into every minute as possible; they are always busy. Also sounds like my husband.

3. The deadliner subconsciously enjoys the last-minute sprint to the finish line; they feel more alive when running out of time. Maybe this is it - he gets off on rushing around.

4. The indulger exercises less self-control; tends to procrastinate. This also describes him.

5. The rebel resists authority and everyday rules; might run late as a form of control. Also sounds like him.

6. The absent-minded professor is easily distracted, forgetful and caught up in their own introspection. This is one excuse he gives - the office can't run without him so they can wait for him.

7. The evader feels anxiety about his or her environment and tries to control it; their own needs or routine come before being on time. Also is my husband.

One website gave some tips on how to handle the chronically late:
1. Don't take it personally. Most aren't trying to be inconsiderate. Wrong - this is saying what I feel isn't important as what he is feeling.

2. Discuss the problem openly and honestly before too much resentment builds. Let him or her know that the lateness bothers you, but keep it constructive. Been there done that got nowhere.

3. Set parameters. Let Ms. or Mr. Late know you'll leave after 15 minutes of waiting, or ask them to call if they're running late. Just started doing this. Didn't faze him at all.

4. Be encouraging and patient. It may take time to see improvement. Offer compliments when you see a change. Don't think I will live long enough for this to happen.

5. If the late person is your doctor, dentist, hairdresser, etc., you may want to call ahead to see if they're running late. What if it is the doctor who is doing it? Plus in my eyes, not an excuse and I won't go to doctors who don't run on time.

6. You can try fudging it from time to time by telling the person to be somewhere at 7:30 if you really mean 8. Again a been there done that didn't work.

7. Keep it in perspective. Don't forget the person's great traits. This is one of the reasons why we are still married. But the lateness is really really starting to bug me.

Anyone have any other tips?

Not a Green Thumb

I was drawn to an article on cnn.com:

Houseplants So Low Maintenance Even You (Probably) Won't Kill Them
Posted by Brad Tuttle Tuesday, November 3, 2009 at 5:46 pm
Who needs a high-maintenance houseplant? If you're going through the trouble of decorating your home with some greenery, it makes sense to buy something that'll last—even if your home is as dark as a basement, your ability to remember to water is nearly nonexistent, and your thumbs aren't remotely green.
Among some suggestions for "No-Fail Houseplants" are Pothos and Spath:

- Pothos: This leafy, versatile houseplant can endure two of the biggest plant maintenance no-nos for extended periods of time: Low light and low water levels.

- Spath: This hardy, leafy dark green plant has long skinny stems with a spike of itsy-bitsy white micro flower at its tips. It thrives in low light and it actually hangs onto water for weeks before drooping leaves signal that it's time for a swig.

Tried both. Killed both. Chia pets don't even grow under my care.

My idea of inside greenery: fake. The kind you buy and never have to water and throw them out when they collect too much dust.

Outside: no mess - no bother - no planting - they come up all on their own every year - things like tulips, hostas, flowering bushes, etc. Husband plants a vegetable garden every year filled with the things we like and I use for cooking. He is in charge of it - I don't even look at anything but the produce for fear of killing it. Oh and I leave the watering to my husband. The outside looks nice. The inside looks nice too - just nothing live except the animals and humans.

Wednesday Websites

I figured I would do these on Wednesday's since - well, it's my blog and I can do what I want :)

Here is an interesting website that is called photoshop of horrors - travel forward in time to a frightening future where the miracle of computer graphics lets you see what our fresh-faced celebrities will look like in 2034. http://www.eatnineghost.com/how-hollywood-celebrities-looks-like-in-2034

Here is another funny site: http://faceyourpockets.com/index1.html
You are to find a scanner, empty your pockets onto its surface, press your face against the scanner, then post the resulting (and sure to be entertaining) image on that site. Check the gallery to see what everyone else is lugging around in their pockets.

And the last website is called Max Dirt Bike - you take off down the obstacle course but don't rev too hard because if you lose your balance you have to return to the starting point. Much harder than it looks but highly addicting: http://www.addictinggames.com/maxdirtbike.html

Recipe Tuesday - 20 Garlic Chicken Crock Pot Dinner

3 ½ pound chicken, whole
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 large onion, sliced
1 medium garlic bulb (with about 20 cloves)

Remove giblets from chicken; remove as much fat as possible. Rinse and drain chicken and pat dry inside and out with paper towels. In small bowl, combine salt, pepper, paprika and oil; mix to form paste. Spread evenly over chicken.

Place onion in 3 ½ to 4 qt Crock-pot. Place chicken, breast side up over chicken. Separate garlic into cloves (do not peel). Place garlic cloves in and around chicken.

Cover and cook on low setting for at least 7 hours or until chicken is fork tender and juices run clear.

This is one of my sisters' families favorite recipes. They serve this with salad, corn, and mashed potatoes, (squeezing 3-4 cooked garlic cloves into the mashed potatoes, mixing well). You can also save the other cooked garlics to be spread on bread or vegetables for a roasted garlic flavor.

(I cannot attest to the taste of this since garlic and I don't get along but my son and husband love it - hence the picture above - to them the more garlic the better!).

More Full Moon Craziness

Last night I got a call from my daughter asking what happened to my brother - seemed all the cousins were talking on Facebook about my brother and that he was lucky to be alive but no one said if he was hurt or what happened. I picked up the phone and called.

Note: brother works almost a distance from his house - long long story of that reason. But the story was that on the way home from work while driving on the interstate, he had a close encounter with a deer. Airbags did not deploy but his car was destroyed. He said he only pulled over because the engine was smoking. As soon as he got out of the car and went to the front end to see how much damage there was, he saw fire and backed away. The car caught on fire. He told me he felt God's presence the entire time. After looking at the pictures, I agree - he walked away from this without even a scratch. Thanks God!

Pics in order: 1st the front end of his Rav4, 2nd the driver side, 3rd the middle of the car.

Happy Full Moon!

Actually it's Happy Harvest Moon today! Lots of nutty thing happening around our house starting with last night.

It was a dark and cold night....oh yeah - back to the story - I was coming out of the laundry room and happened on Trouble trying to tip over a grocery bag that had handles on it. He achieved getting the bag tipped over. He then proceeded cautiously to climb into said bag - not through the bag but through the handles. He realized once he was almost in that his leg was caught on the handle so he tried backing out. Didn't work so he freaked, further twisting himself into the bag and then he and the bag took off running through the house. I was in tears laughing. Hubs and son were in the family room watching Slumdog Millionaire when they see a bag go flying through their room. I catch my breath long enough to say get him - the cat is caught on the handles of the bag and freaking out.

Took 3 grown adults to get ahold of said bag with kitten twisted inside. Took another 5 minutes and a pair of gloves and winter coat to extract said kitten from the bag (he had really twisted himself around those handles). He wouldn't go near the bag the rest of the day.

This morning hubs decided to leave the bathroom door open. So instead of getting to sleep in, resting up after being diagnosed with a sinus infection and pneumonia on Friday on top of the swine flu, Trouble decided to crawl in bed with me and go under the covers. Would have been no problem but Trouble crawled in to get to my feet and bite my toes. Woke me up really fast. Got no rest.

Tonight - Trouble and the bag played games again. I wonder if he will ever learn about the rules of kittens sleeping 16 hours a day?