Delaware Grammy

LET THE FESTIVITIES BEGIN!

2011 RALPH YUTZY FAMILY REUNION

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SHADY ACRES

More to come!

When you are in the “business” that I am in — providing care for handicapped adults, one of the things that is of utmost importance is being very, very careful with medication.  I handle meds for seizures, schizophrenia, depression, allergies, angina, high blood pressure, anemia, osteoporosis, constipation, stomach acid, asthma, pain, fluid retention, and then over the counter meds such as aspirin, cranberry extract, daily vitamins, etc..

As you can well imagine, due to the fact that I am not as young as I once was, and due to the constraints of time and scheduling, I have to have a plan.  Or else I get mixed up.  One of my rules is that I never, never, NEVER give medication to two different people at the same time.  It is too easy to give the wrong person the medication that has been pulled for another.

And in addition to that, I try to never take my daily vitamins and prescription meds at the same time that I am getting my ladies theirs.

This has worked quite well for a long time.  Not that I never make errors.  I do.  I am human, and flawed.  But it is and always has been my intent to have as few errors as I possibly can.  One of the things I do is take my own medications as soon as I get up.

Yesterday was a very backwards day.  Wednesday is the day that I take my Mama to appointments if we can possibly get things scheduled, pay bills, organize her medications, and whatever else might need doing.  So yesterday, we were scheduled for a dentist appointment in Dover.  I got up and got the morning started, and began a glass of airborne — that I always use to take my morning medications.  But then it was time to get Cecilia up, and so I went about other morning things without taking my pills.  Certain Man came down from his shower and was getting something to drink, and I saw the airborne there and decided to just go ahead and drink it and never even thought to take my pills.  Certain Man left for work, I got breakfast around for my ladies, and started to get Cecilia’s morning pills out.  Then the phone rang, and it was Certain Man, needing to discuss some church business, and wondering what I had to say about the coming weekend.  I remembered then that I hadn’t taken my morning pills, and so decided that I would take mine while I was talking to Certain Man.  I got a glass of water, took the pills from the container that was sitting on the cupboard and swallowed them down.  I finished the conversation with Certain Man, hung up the phone, then went to get Cecilia’s Wednesday morning meds.  They were gone. 

Now I am very slow of heart to understand, and I was puzzled as to where they all were, so I began a search to see if I had set them down somewhere.  I looked and looked and looked, but could find absolutely NOTHING.  Suddenly, almost a heart stopping moment, I began to wonder if maybe — just Maybe I had given them to Nettie.  But Nettie is very, very observant and she knows if she has the wrong pills.  And she won’t take them if they aren’t hers.  Then I noticed that the Wednesday morning container on my medication planner was still full — and in that terrible moment, I realized that I had taken Cecilia’s morning meds.

I cannot begin to tell you what went though my head at that point.  Cecilia is on 1,000 mg of strong seizure meds twice a day.  She takes another seizure med that’s 100 milligrams twice a day, too.  As well as seven other pills with her morning meds.  They started her on both seizure meds on very low, low doses and kept upping it as they felt it was safe.  I kept thinking that I had dumped all that medication into my unsuspecting, unacclimated system, and I couldn’t help wondering what in the world the consequences were going to be.

It was not yet eight o’clock, so I could call neither pharmacist or doctor, so I flew to the trusty “google spot” and discovered that I was probably not going to suffer any lasting effects.  I discovered that I may experience dizziness, lightheadedness, nausea, and many, many other things, and that there was “no antidote.”  Groan.  

Eventually, I got ahold of the pharmacist who reassured me that I wasn’t going to die.  He also said, “You may not even suffer any adverse effects.  You might not even be able to tell you took it.”

Yeah, right! 

I said, “I was going to drive my mother to Dover today for an appointment.”

He said, “Well, I don’t know as to whether I’d advise THAT.  You should probably stay home today and take it easy.”

So I called Eldest Daughter, who had been considering going along anyhow, and she said that she would be glad to go along.  And DRIVE!  What a blessing that proved to be.

For you see, I really was pretty much out of it for most of the day.  I couldn’t walk a straight line to save my neck.  Maybe five or six steps, but then it was weave city.  Certain Man and Middle Daughter were so amused.  I did go to Dover, but I didn’t get much accomplished.  And when I came home, I got on my chair and pretty much stayed right there.  I managed to get a simple supper together for my ladies, but I didn’t even consider going to prayer meeting.

Today, I’m a whole lot better.  I can walk straight, and I can make intelligent conversation.  But I am so incredibly tired.  All I want to do is sit on my chair, sip iced tea and sleep.  Which isn’t good at all.  I have a women’s tea to speak at tomorrow night, a state inspection next Wednesday, and there is a Ralph Yutzy Family Reunion here next weekend.  This gal has things to do!

But if taking it easy is what is best for me, then I guess I should give it a few more hours at least. 

At least I don’t think I need to worry about getting a seizure.

If you need anything, I’ll be on my chair . . . 

Now it came to pass that Shady Acres has enjoyed quite a lengthy respite from the onslaughts of a feline nature for some months.  There have been the usual barn cats, of course, but nary a furry body has bothered the house and its surrounding parameters for some time.

Then a friend brought a cat named “Skits” and dropped it off at the farm because she was unable to keep it, and friends of hers had an unsuccessful attempt at acclimating him to their premises.  Now Skits is a beautiful cat, neutered and accustomed to human company, but decidedly an outside cat.  Or so we have been promised.

There was at least a week when we saw neither hide nor hair of Skits.  We all assumed that he wasn’t favorably impressed with Shady Acres and its large array of barn and chicken house cats and had moved on to more friendly territory.  There is a neighbor who will sometimes take in errant felines, march them off to the vet and deprive them of their abilities to reproduce and then bring them back– sometimes to let them go again, but often to attempt to tame them and keep them domesticated.  In the week that Skits was absent, there was much speculation that maybe neighbor Kit G. had taken him in, finding him already neutered, and that he was enjoying a life of riley there.

No such luck.

There came a day when Skits presented himself at the door of the sunroom, on the newly renovated deck.  He was noisily and insistently announcing his presence and Certain Man was not impressed.  “He better find somewhere else to meow!” he said darkly, “or I shall help him find somewhere else to be and it won’t be any fun for him!”

So Middle Daughter and CMW shooed and “encouraged” and tried to make “being on the deck” as unattractive as possible.  Though Skits really is a beautiful cat, it is disconcerting to the family at Shady Acres to see him stalking birds at the bird feeder, and parking his very beautiful body directly in line with nests full of fledglings, and in general standing sentry over the bird population.

In addition, it seemed like every evening, Skits would present himself outside the windows on the front deck, directly in line with Certain Man’s La-Z-boy and meow away.  This was not met with anything that was even remotely close to approval by the man of the house.  In these instances, there was more than gentle encouragement for the cat to move on.

Over the last few weeks, there have been some improvements made at Shady Acres, one of which was a set of stairs going up to the “upper deck” that Middle Daughter designed on top of the sun room.  One evening, after Certain Man had been especially disgruntled with the obnoxious meows, we were relieved to note that Skits had seeming disappeared from the deck.  It was our hope that he had retired to the barn or the pavilion (or even the middle of the busy highway out front).  Certain Man and his wife retired to their bed, and scarcely had Certain Man’s Wife gotten into bed when suddenly, right outside her second story bedroom window was heard, “Meow.”

“Meow.”

“Meow.”

Skits had found and appropriated the new steps leading up to the deck.  From there, it was an easy hop over to the roof and on to the interesting windows where he deemed there may be human companionship.

It was nearly impossible to see outside, but CMW peered through the screen, and sure enough, there was Skits, directly outside the screen.  He was standing on his hind legs, with his feet up to the window, looking in and calling out for the attention he so desired.  Certain Man’s Wife was not impressed.  “GIT!!!” she intoned sternly.

“What???” asked a very sleepy Certain Man.

“That cat!”  Said Certain Man’s Wife.  “He’s right outside this window.”

“He better find some place else to be!”  Said Certain Man, “Or he isn’t going to live!”

Well, that was encouragement enough for Skits to drop onto all fours and pad over to the window that is directly in front of Certain Man’s head.  CMW headed over to the bathroom to fetch a large glass of water to throw out through the screen, but in the meantime, Certain Man had pulled himself up onto his elbows and was looking out into the dark of the garage roof.  Skits was plastering himself up against the screen.  CMW set the tall glass of water on the end table and poked her head up over the pillows to see what was going on.  At the very same instant, Certain Man decided that he was going to exercise his manly strength and send that cat flying with a punch through the screen, and his fist caught CMW on the left cheekbone as it went by. 

Wowser!  That smarted.  CMW got out of the way.  Fast.  And Skits took himself on down the roof to the far end.  Certain Man, unaware that he had even connected with CMW’s face kept a sharp lookout out the window, and soon the cat was back.  Certain Man picked up the glass of water and flung it through the screen at the hapless victim.  There was a great splashing noise and Skits took himself hurriedly down the length of the roof to the far end, and Certain Man complained loudly concerning the fact that his bed was wet, his pillow was wet, and life in general was greatly in a mess. 

But then he looked out the darkened window and ascertained that Skits was very much out of reach and wasn’t in any mood to visit the window again, and that made him certain the cat was distracted long enough for him to get into dreamland, so he turned over, pulled the covers up and promptly fell asleep.  CMW, on the other hand, had a most touchy red spot on her cheek, and was completely awake, and unsure that Skits had any intention of settling down for the night. 

When Friend Lydia had asked about bringing the cat, it was Middle Daugher who had given permission, so Certain Man’s Wife decided to call her and ask for assistance.  So she traipsed across the landing to tell Middle Daughter, who promptly got tickled at the situation and willingly agreed to come and help.

So, CMW, clad in her blue nightie, and Middle Daugher, also in her jammies, ventured forth into the night.  And Middle Daughter had a flash light, and CMW armed herself with a garden hose with the great high pressured sprayer end attached.  And whilst the neighborhood slept, including Certain Man, the two fearless ladies did battle with the elusive Skits.  CMW was able to score a direct hit with the water, causing Skits to go flying across the roof, down onto the deck, back up on the opposing roof where she hid behind the edge of the house where CMW could not reach her, even with the fifty foot stream of water.

But that was okay, because Skits had appeared to learn her lesson.  Down the steps he flew once the dangerous females had returned to the house and there has not been anymore nocturnal visits to the upper roof. 

Not that he has gone away for good.

CMW is quite certain that there is more to this story!

Ordinary Tuesday morning.

Usual things happening.
Ladies ready for center with shower given to Cecilia.
Voltaren Gel applied to Nettie’s lower back.
Breakfasts made, lunches packed, meds given.
DART Bus loaded and gone. 

My 1,000 Gifts Journal had some new entries, and time spent with my Favorite Book (God’s Powerful WORD) was causing me to ponder.

But life calls, and it was time to be getting on with this Ordinary Tuesday.

Then I came around the edge of my work counter and caught sight of the family candy dish, sitting there with the cover off.

I look at the almost empty dish.  There are no pink left.  (Eldest Daughter has seen to that.)  There are lots of black, lots of green, and a smattering of the other colors.  I like the black in small quantities, the rest a little more so.  I mix them up a bit, grab a random handful, and of course that gets me to thinking.

Every year at Easter,
Old Gertrude’s family would bring her an Easter Basket.
She loved the chocolates somewhat. 
Usually she would get melted chocolate
all over her face and hands.
But what she loved most of all was the yellow Jelly beans. 
She would pick them out and eat them first
Digging through that artificial green grass stuff
Making a royal mess of things.
But, oh!  How incredibly happy she was.

How incredibly much I miss her this morning. . .

1,000 Gifts . . .June 7, 2011

#334.  Yellow Jelly Beans

#335.  Gertrude (June 15, 1924-October 23, 2005)

May she rest in peace.

#336.  The memories that still fill my heart and eyes.

Go on over to 

SweetMama1129

for some pictures about last night’s gathering at Mama’s house

Oh, yes . . .

She’s riding elephants!!!

One Thousand Gifts . . . 

229.  A mason jar of lilies . . .

There was a time when she would not go to sleep unless she held my hand.  Night after night, camped out on the floor of our room, my hand draped down over the side of the bed so she could know that I was there and still attached.  Not comfortable with a toddler in our bed, I compromised with a pallet on the floor between our bed and the wall.  She seemed more than comfortable there.  I always made sure that her hand was not going to go anywhere when she fell asleep and let go because that always got her awake with a jolt.  Paralysis in my shoulder became more common than conjugal encounters (and far less satisfying).

Certain Man, a prince among men, was never jealous or resentful.  “She won’t be here forever,” he would say good-naturedly with his half-grin.  I wondered.  Thoughts of a ten year old camped out on our floor became less and less attractive all the time.

He was right, as usual.  There came a day when she decided that being in an older sister’s room had decided benefits, and away she went.  She’s been going ever since.

I thought today about all the roads this girlie of ours has walked down.  Many, many have been the miles that she has walked in unfamiliar and even unsafe territory.  She has slept in hostels and tents and cars and bus and train stations as well as airports.  She has narrowly escaped falls from high places, got food poisoning in Luxembourg, vomited in the trash cans of Paris train stations.  She has lived in big cities, walking the streets where Satan has a heyday.  She has witnessed the selling of drugs and ammo and bodies and souls.  She has bicycled alone through the darkened streets of Bangkok at unearthly hours.  She has encountered terrifying situations, been divinely rescued more than she knows, and been in situations that caused her to face her own mortality square on. 

And I don’t think she has told me the half.

Today she seems so far away.  Almost every day there are letters from a college in Ohio reminding me that when she does come home, there will be but five days (5!) for her to walk the country roads around Shady Acres with which she is so familiar.  I wonder if she will tramp the length and breadth of this old farm the way she did when she was a little girl, and if she will remember the days when her world was this small.  I wonder if she will sleep soundly enough for me to creep to her bedside in the still of the night and watch her even breathing and drink in that face that feels almost unfamiliar.   I wonder if this practice of being alert has become so much a part of her that she never sleeps soundly.

What I wonder most about is her heart.  It’s difficult to see the hard side of this destitute old world and still be soft.   She’s adapted so well, grown so much, expanded her horizons so far beyond what I have ever needed to, or, quite frankly, wanted to.  She’s an adult, with life dreams and the fire to fuel what she believes is her calling.  What about her heart?  Over the months, I’ve come to realize that, had she stayed at home, and been content to be safe, that heart of hers could be even harder than it is this way.

 Staying safe, and being comfortable hardens hearts, too. 

And in the worst sort of way.

Our Little Love Bug

I’m missing Love Bug incredibly much!!!

Eldest Daughter and Beloved Son in Law took her along on their
“Honey Trip”
to celebrate their 12th anniversary. 
(Fancy that!!!)

And today they should be home again!

Another “Happy Day” at Shady Acres!

Happy day at Shady Acres . . .

My Sweet Mama is getting better and better.  It is such a relief to our family.  She went to church yesterday, and came home with us for lunch.  Grandbaby Charis is enthralled with anything that belongs to the outdoors, and Grandma had noticed a bug on the window screen leading out to the new deck.  Of course, we needed to investigate.  The poor bug was rather comatose on the arm of the rocker outside the window when this picture was taken.  Charis was fascinated, but wary.

Then Charis got up on Grandma’s lap for some lotion and some hugs:

And then they smelled the flowers together:

This past week was flower planting week at Shady Acres.  I still have a side bed to do and some containers that I would like to do, but I got a lot of flowers planted this past week with Our Girl Nettie’s help.  Charis loves the flowers, and there is a little spot on the railing between Grammy’s new window boxes that is just fine for sitting:

And laughing at Mommy and Auntie Beebs when they make faces:

And smelling the flowers:

(Geraniums sure do smell funny, don’t they?)

And then there is always Auntie Beebs to hug and kiss on:

. . . So many wonderful gifts that I’ve been given.
I am so thankful for each happy day.