Granny Panties?

I have written about laundry before, and how I have to do laundry during the day becaue of gran.

Well last night she came home and felt like folding laundry, so she folded mine....which she does sometimes and it's always welcome.

And my mom comes over today to give her her meds, and realizes she isn't wearing the disposables she's supposed to be wearing.

No....she's wearing MY UNDERWEAR!!!

GROSS!!!

Welll......seems she decided to be an underwear caper. I'll admit....I wear granny panties. And it was the white load she was folding. But my panties are MINE and I am not so skinny and gran is.

However, they are the seamless kind and they look a lot smaller than they are. So gran folds my laundry and puts some of it in her drawer....and I now have to keep my drawers under lock and KEY!!!

The hunt is on....

So this weekend we decided to play a new game around here.

Let's hide Kenna's Glasses.

Yeah. I wasn't amused. I get home from the Community Festival day frustrated because it was a slow day and I was hot, and I was tired and I was cranky so Bonnie and I decide to go out to dinner.

I come home take off my sunglasses, walk into the bathroom to get my regular glasses, which I leave on the sink, and *POOF* they have vanished.

I look in the drawers. I look in my room. I look in the kitchen and grans room and no glasses.

I call my mom. "Ma, did you see my glasses today?

"Yeah, they were on the sink in the bathroom"

"Well....they aren't now."

"What'd you do with them"

"Nothing. I was gone ALL DAY"

"Did the housekeeper move them"

"No. She doesn't do that kind of thing"

"Well....start looking"

So the hunt for Kenna's glasses was on.

I looked in grans room. I looked by the dreaded red chair. I looked under the cushions (per a suggestion from Daralynn who's son is autistic and an awful lot like gran. She sympathizes) I looked in the fridge, under everything.

Nada.

Finally SO FRUSTRATED I go find an old pair and decide to suck it up. I am praying that I find my lovely Ferragamo frames that I love so much!! I am broke and can't afford new glasses yet.

Besides it's late by this time and I figure the hunt can continue tomorrow.

Sunday I get up and Sunday is a HORRID morning....Dude tried to break up with me for my own good (that's a story for another blog, let's just say by the end of the conversation we were not broken up and all is once again right in THAT world) I go looking for a pen in the green vase where gran keeps the pens.....and low and behold....

I FIND MY GLASSES.

What in the sam hill are my glasses doing there?

Who the hell knows. She obviously picked them up and stuck them there. Now I know another place to look. It's like when she plays "Hide the cane" only the cane is big and easier to find!!

You're so vain....

That song describes Gran.

Did I mention that she's 91??

Today was "seniors" at church. Basically it's a social hour of lunch, bingo, chatter, etc at the church hall every other Monday. Usually my mom brings her and drops her off, but my mom was busy this morning so the chore fell on my shoulders.

First of all gran was NOT amused by the switchup. Mom is the one who is supposed to drive her around. Not me. She doesn't appreciate change. So the switch to me was particularly annoying. THEN we start the leaving the house routine....

Gran: "Close those windows"

Me: "nope. I'm only dropping you off at church and will be right home:

Gran: "I SAID CLOSE THOSE WINDOWS. Anyone can come in this house"

Me: "Why? We're going to be gone for 10 minutes. I'll be home. LETS GO".

Gran: "Where's my purse?"

Me: "In the den. Where's your cane?"

Gran: "I'm not taking my cane to church"

Me: "OH YES YOU ARE"

Gran: "NO I'm NOT. Gimme that damn thing" (and she throws it to the ground)

Me: "TAKE YOUR CANE"

Gran: "NO"

Me: (picking up the cane) "You need the cane take the cane. I will carry it out, but you WILL take the cane"

Gran: "I don't need the damn cane" (then she stumbles. I give her the cane)

We get to seniors....repeat said conversation with me thrusting the cane in her old lady hands and making her use it. Now mind you that we are at SENIORS and the average age in the hall is about 80 and a good 75% of the old fogies have canes. But gran is OH SO VAIN that she can't be seen with her red with pink polka dots cane.

Yes. Her nickname when she was younger was Diamond because she thought she was better than everyone else.

She still does.

Meals on Wheels

Gran gets Meals on Wheels. For those that aren't familiar with the program, it's a food delivery service for elderly shut ins. They deliver one hot meal in the afternoon and a sack lunch. It is often the only food Gran eats during the day, and they are a Godsend.

Anyway, I digress.

So I had never really paid attention to the Meals on Wheels volunteers, but now that I've been home I get to witness the deliveries, and occasionally I take them for her.

The other day this Mercedes SUV roars up and out crawls a very elderly man, who is as old as Gran if he is a day. And his little white haired, hunched over self goes to the back of his suv, pulls out her meal with his little oven mitt on and starts shuffling up the path....

Then he see's Gran.

He smiles this BIG dentury grin (there is NO WAY that that stooped little man could possibly had BIG WHITE TEETH. They HAD to be dentures) and says:

"Good Morning Mrs. O"

and Gran, ever vain and always loving the mens replies:

"Good Morning" and grins her little grin minus a few teeth.

he says to her

"I'm bringing your lunch, you should come get it while it's hot"

and she replies:

"Oh thank you!"

and I realized something.

They were flirting with each other. Her in her broom and disposable drawers, him in his one oven mitt, grinning like teenagers.

EWWWWWW

GRAN!!!!!!

So there are days when I think I live with a 12 year old boy.

Seriously. She can be SO crass. Hey, I know I'm not the most proper of women in the world, but she takes the cake. This morning I am putting laundry into the washer (it's day time, its all good) and gran is sitting in the ever present red chair and I look over and she is BLOWING HER NOSE on the hem of her nightgown.

GRAN!!!!!!

She looks at me and says "what?"

"Use a Kleenex, they are RIGHT THERE"

"What for?"

"Because that's GROSS"

"Shut up Kenna. I needed to blow my nose. It was there."

Areyoufreakingkiddingme? Really? It's come to this?

I am grossed out.

Of course we can add it to the laundry list of other gross things that granny does. Like drink right out of the container. We have switched her to soy milk because it's easier on her digestive track and last night I'm sitting on my couch in my living room (we have separate rooms, it's easier on me) and I look over and she is CHUGGING soy milk out of the container standing in the fridge.

"GRAN! Why don't you get a glass"

"What for, I just wanted a swallow"

I just stare.

Look at those leaves!

I know I've written about gran and the leaves before.

However, at least twice a day, sometimes three or four times she goes on patrol and hits the leaves in the yard. She picks up her broom and heads out the back gate to attack the leaves from the beautiful Magnolia trees in the side yard.

Here is gran and her rake and the leaves!

BIRDS!!

It is summer. I am trying to cram as much sleep as I can into a short amount of time. Did I mention I love to sleep? I'm also a night owl. Which means I go to bed late and get up late. Works like a charm in the summer.

This morning I am in a lovely slumber, dreaming who knows what when all of a sudden I am rudely jerked from my delightful unconscious state by

AWWHHHEEWWHH

Thwap thwap twhap on the wall

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Thwap thwap thwap on the wall.

Now, seeing as how Lucy isn't the steadiest woman alive and has been known to fall, and seeing as how she's 91 I JUMP from my bed, wretch open the door and RUN into her room thinking she's on the ground hurt and yelling for help.

humpft.

Yeah right.

She's standing at the window, holding the curtain up pounding on the window making hideous noises as if she's in pain.

GRAN WHAT IN THE SAM HILL ARE YOU DOING??? YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME.

"I'm yelling at the birds"

I stand there dumbfounded. You have to be kidding. Really?? It's 8 am. You are yelling at the BIRDS?? I turn on my heel and head back to bed. But of course my heart is pounding and I am AWAKE.

Then I start laughing.

This is SO my life.

I live with Harriet the Spy....senior version

So Gran is one of the nosiest people alive....and is CONSTANTLY spying on the neighbors. She lifts the edge of the curtain and peers out all the time. She hears a noise and runs to the window to peer out.

When I ask her what she's doing, she always answers the same:

"I'm lookin"

"Ok. You're lookin. At what?"

"The neighbors"

ummmmm Lucy....I hate to mention this, but you've lived here for 50 years. In the 32 years I've been alive the next door neighbor, the family across the street in the front, the family across the street on the side and the guy kitty corner on both sides have all lived there. The people behind gran moved in when I was about 12 and the ONLY new neighbor is across the street in the cul de sac....and they are never around. WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?? I highly doubt Rita is going to go streaking across the street and we know Bert and Ernie's son (no freaking joke, the couple's names were bert and ernie!!) is as loony as a bird with that yard, but that's nothing exciting. Waiting for Carl to ride by on his bike, like he has been doing every day for the last 30 years? I live in a time warp....nothing ever changes in ole El Dorado Park South....

Heaven forbid if there is a loud noise outside. This morning, Gran, who normally uses a cane, or a broom, or your arm, or whatever she happens to be able to find to steady herself did a semi RUN to get out the front door to see what the noise was....I was laughing to see her little old self hustle to the gate to get it open to see what was going on. When I asked her what happened, she seemed almost disappointed that it was only a UPS truck.

I'm tellin ya Harriet....nothing ever happens in this 'hood....

The Washing Machine?

Soooo.....it's summer and the power grid is taxed so they ask us to do laundry at night. I'm good. I love to work at night. I do laundry at night all the time. No biggie. Never thought much of it.

Welll....that is until I moved into Casa de Lucy.

We do laundry during the day here. If the washer is going during the day it's no biggie and no one really notices. Turn the darn thing on at night and all hell breaks loose.

Gran doesn't like noise in the house when she goes to bed. Who knew the old lady's hearing was that great?

I put a load of laundry in one night and went to bed. Got up in the morning and it was done, transferred it to the dryer and went to turn the washer back on for load two.

Nothin. A low hum and that was it. No water, nothin.

Oh shit. I look to see that it's plugged in. Check.

I have no idea. But I know I'm late to work and will figure it out later. I call my mom.

Ma, the washer is broken. Great, I just gave mine away. Oh well. Figure it out.

The washer is 20 years old. Or more. If it were broken, it wouldn't be a shock.

Get a call later in the day and my mother is cracking herself up. REALLY laughing.

Washer you see is NOT broken. Not by a long shot. Granny didn't like the NOISE of the water rushing into the washer. So....she turned the water off. The washer works fine....the OLD LADY strikes again.

I will refrain from doing laundry at night.

*sigh*

The TV is broken.

I can't tell you how many times in the month that I've lived here that I've heard the words:

Kenna The tv is broken!

The TV is NOT broken. We have FIOS now because I HATE HATE HATE the cable company with a passion and I needed internet and phone too and $99 a month for all of them is a deal. So I switched gran to fios.

There was one unexpected negative.

FIOS requires a box. And a remote with all kinds of funny buttons. But it's the box that is the problem.

See the box has a yellow light on it, and a digital read out of the time. NOT a big deal except that it means that it USES ELECTRICITY. And we must unplug EVERYTHING that has an indicator light.

Which means that she unplugs the box. EVERY NIGHT. We fixed that by putting the ever present and oh so versatile electrical tape over the time and the indicator light. Now all gran has to do is push the power button on the tv and VIOLA it goes on (and I leave it on channel seven because that's all she watches). Well.....insert new problem. When the tv goes on it says CH 3 because the TV itself must be on channel 3 for the cable to work.

Gran doesn't want to watch channel 3. She wants channel 7

So she pushes the channel up button. All the way to the 100s and then yells "Kenna the TV is broken!"

So I have to go in and put it on the correct channel.

I have come up with a solution. I turn the tv on first. Works most of the time.

But if she tells you the TV is broken.....now you know.....

Granny hates fans

Granny hates fans.

Actually, Gran hates anything that uses electricity. But she REALLY hates fans.

It's been hot lately. Which means that my fat self is using the fans to keep cool. This does not make for a happy house!! As soon as the sun goes down Gran hefts herself out of the red chair and goes on patrol. This means that every window, every door must be shut and locked tight. No matter that it's over 80 degrees in this house, IT'S DARK! therefore we MUST shut the house.

I disagree.

I believe that after dark it gets COOL outside and we must OPEN the house to get air. So she shuts, I open. This isn't new. We do this every day. No, now I add in FANS! Granny HATES them. She turns them off. I turn them on. This leads to the nightly mexican standoff. It goes something like this:

Gran: Why is that door open? Why is there a fan in that door? Turn that off. Close that door.

Me: No. It's hot. I'm sitting in here, you are sitting in the den, I want the door open, the door stays open.

Gran: THIS IS MY HOUSE! CLOSE THAT DOOR.

Me: I LIVE HERE TOO. I PAY THE ELECTRICITY BILL, I WANT THE FAN THE FAN STAYS

Gran: I SAID CLOSE THAT DOOR. CLOSE THAT DOOR AND TURN THAT FAN OFF RIGHT NOW.

Me: Why? What for?

Gran: (standing and looking confused) BECAUSE IT'S DARK.

Me: There is a security door. It is locked. It's 80 degrees in this house. I want the door open. As soon as your ass hits that red chair in the den, I will open the door again. Might as well give up.

Gran: THIS IS MY HOUSE.

Me: We covered that.

Gran: (stalks off in a huff)

Now....repeat this conversation at least three times. Add in the

Gran: What is that fan doing on in that bedroom if nobody's in there.

Me: Gran, it's hot, it's cooling it off

Gran: Turn it off.

Me: No, that's my room, I want it on, I'll turn it off when I go to bed

Gran: I said turn it off

Me: I pay the electricity bill, THE FAN STAYS.

Repeat

And then there's my favorite. The ceiling fan in my room and the office are both hooked to the light switch. Therefore when the light goes off the fan goes off. Simple? Not so much.

I hear "clank" "clank" "clank" and realize that gran, who is too short to really reach the fan is trying to turn it off and is letting the chains hit the globes.

I tell her that the fan goes off when the light goes off. This leads to a screaming match about fans and electricity.

I wonder what she'd do if we had air conditioning?? hummmm.......