We have entered a new phase here in LucyLand.
Lucy has decided to clean.
Not her room, nor her stuff, nope, that would be too easy. She can't throw away the paper towels she cleans the counter with, nor can she clean up her chair, or throw away any of the newspapers she reads (simply so she knows what day it is)....nooo.....Gran decides to clean up MY stuff.
I come home the other day and gran has "cleaned" my room. She made my bed, folded my nightgown and "straightened" my dresser. Which means that I found the keys to my beetle in my underwear drawer and the mail in the dirty clothes basket....not to mention the dirty clothes that were in a pile to be washed folded on the foot of my bed.
Today I came home and gran "cleaned" my desk area. She unplugged my laptop and put my lap desk in the office, the computer under the side table, the magazines on the tv and the mail on the dining room table....my mouse was hidden behind the tv, the thumb drive in the candy dish....it was like a flipping easter egg hunt.....can Kenna find the pieces to her laptop.....not to mention the pile of grading that she put on my sewing table....
I asked her to please please please not touch my stuff.
She said "I didn't touch anything"
Um Lucy...there are only two of us in this house. I didn't do it, which leaves....YOU.
Yes, gran you did.
No I didn't.
Ok Gran. Please, please don't clean up my stuff.
Soooo this week will find me at the Home Depot buying yet another lock....
Now, this can be seen in a positive light....this is the first time in at least a year that she's shown any interest in cleaning anything.
I just wish it wasn't my stuff!!!!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Everyone keeps telling me that gran is slowing down. She IS getting weaker, and her trips out of the chair are fewer and slower, and she spends more time sleeping in the chair....but this morning my mother said that even her voice is weaker....and I disagree.
She is NOT losing her feisty ways. She is NOT losing her voice. She still manages to yell at me every day! Recently the weather turned cooler, so keeping the house open at night to cool it off was unnecessary. So when she'd close it up, I just let her, because it was cool and i was fine. Well, indian summer has hit us, and it's not that way. Now when I get home from work I fling the WHOLE house open and then I turn on the whole house fan. So yesterday I flung open the windows in the den, turned on the fan, continued into the living room and gran starts
KENNA TURN OFF THAT FAN
Why gran? It's hot.
I CAN'T HEAR MY TV PROGRAM, TURN OFF THAT FAN
Nope. Its hot. So *I* go in and turn up her tv.
she seems mollified for a minute.
Then harriet the spy hears a plane, scurries outside to see what it is, and then comes back in, realizes it's getting dark and starts batting down the hatches.
I open them.
You know this game.
Fast forward to this morning....she goes on patrol outside and likes to pick flowers. She brings them in and puts them in drinking glasses all over the house. I have to go around behind her two days later and throw them away, but no big, they make her happy so whateves.
Today she brings in a bunch of roses, heads into the kitchen to cut the stems and I'm watching her. She cuts the stems with my paring knife and I cringe. I can't get her to switch to a cheapo steak knife on the woody stems and I mentally remind myself to sharpen the knife. Then she wipes it with a disgusting scouring pad and puts it BACK in the drawer. No water, no soap, no clean towel, just this disgusting pad I use with cleanser to clean the bottom of the sink when it gets grimy.
so I wander in behind her, open the drawer and take out the knife she uses. She looks at me and asks what I'm doing.
I'm cleaning the knife you just used.
I WIPED THAT KNIFE
Yes gran, you did WIPE the knife. But it's not clean. I am NOT leaving dirty dishes in the cabinet. It's DIRTY you used it to cut flowers from OUTSIDE. It is NOT CLEAN.
I WIPED THAT KNIFE
You WIPED it with a gross pad and no water and no soap. IT IS NOT CLEAN
OH GO TO HELL KENNA
I SAID GO TO HELL.
Oh gran....I'm already here. I live with you.
She looked at me dumfounded and stalked off. Guess she didn't have a retort.
Then she thought about it a second.
KENNA DON"T TELL ME WHAT TO DO.
I didn't. I simply cleaned the DIRTY knife you put away.
GO TO HELL KENNA.
Oh gran. We covered that already.
and I laughed.....welcome to Saturday!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
So one of my many jobs at Casa D'Lucy is to feed gran. Make sure she eats regular meals (read: dinner) and that she doesn't cook. Every time she tries to cook she forgets whatever is in the pot and burns the hell out of it (the other night it was sausage and she fried it in a saucepan and I had to boil the soapy water in the pan for a half an hour to even attempt to get it clean)
Welll....the other night I'm cookin dinner and I bring her a plate. It was a simple hamburger patty and baked beans with cole slaw and some cantaloupe. I brought her a fork and the plate to her dreaded red chair.
She looks at me and says "Nothing to drink?"
I retort "I only have so many hands. I will get you something to drink"
I bring back milk.
"I don't want milk."
Tough. Take the milk. I hand her the milk.
"I don't WANT milk"
I look at her calmly and tell her she needs the calcium for strong bones.
She takes the milk.
I turn around
"Bring me a spoon"
"Bring me a spoon for my beans"
I bring her the spoon and she hands me the untouched milk.
"I don't want milk. Bring me something else."
What do you think this is, burger king?? Your way right away? Seriously?
I set the milk down and walk away.
I keep walking.
KENNA I AM TALKING TO YOU.
yes I hear, but I'm ignoring her and continuing on
KENNA COME BACK HERE.
seriously? I looked at her and said
"THIS IS NOT BURGER KING. IT'S NOT YOUR WAY RIGHT AWAY. DRINK THE MILK, DON'T DRINK THE MILK.....MY JOB HERE IS DONE"
then I started laughing.
She's a piece of work I tell ya!!
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Right before school started I had quite the adventure!! Early one morning I was in the bathroom brushing my hair in my nightgown when I see three little old ladies in the back yard. I check the red chair and gran is sitting fairly quietly enjoying Good Morning America or some other jibberish that's on channel 7 early in the morning and I don't recognize these three old ladies.
One opens the back door and says "She lives here" and points to the oldest one.
Um, nope. She's not my old lady. My old lady is sittin right there in that red chair.
I politely say "No, I don't think so."
Then it dawns on me. This is Aunt Jo. Aunt Jo lives next door. They have a white gate too, and Aunt Jo is 93 and sometimes gets lost.
So I say "She's not mine, but I know where she lives." and I turn to Aunt Jo. "Aunt Jo did you get lost" and she smiles and says "Oh honey I couldn't get in the gate".
No biggie, we start walking out. Two old ladies out for their walk, one old lady with her cane and me in my nightgown with half of my hair brushed and the other half looking like a rats nest.
"Aunt Jo, where is Rae?" (Rae lives next door and takes care of aunt Jo)
"Oh she's on some island"
"Aunt Jo who is taking care of you"
(this I don't believe)
I get Aunt Jo in the house, lock the gate and ask her if she needs anything.
"Oh no honey, I'm fine. Thank you dear" and she pats my hand.
The other two old ladies are outside tittering because Aunt Jo is alone and she shouldn't be and that's not good (mind you neither of them was on this side of 70) and what am I going to do about it.
Excuse me. She is not my old lady. My old lady is inside. I have kept tabs on my charge!!
Then a big SUV comes tearing around the corner.
Out pops a frazzled 30something woman in her jammies.
"Where is Aunt Jo?"
And so I tell her the story.
And we both laugh. Seems Aunt Jo is sweet to strangers but a feisty old bat to the family.
Ohhhh do I ever know how that goes.
Aunt Jo refused to leave with her mom, who was taking care of aunt jo and late for work. She (the daughter) was enlisted to go convince aunt jo to go. It took her 30 min.
Oh do I ever know how she feels.
But she's not my old lady!!
It's gonna be a long year.
I will gran. Goodnight.
I know I haven't blogged in a while, but it's been a rough couple weeks. Gran has been in a snit, and has NOT been friendly to live with.
Lately we are closing up the house earlier and earlier and over and over again. We are playing the open close game but she is yelling at me that it is HER HOUSE and I am being SASSY because I'm being 32 and having an opinion....and I'm not willing to live in the cave that this house is....a stuffy one at that.
So enough of my whining....let's talk about her recent escapades....
So Wednesday night is usually date night for me. It's the night that my boyfriend comes over and I cook dinner and we enjoy a gran free house (gran goes to bingo with my saint of a cousin Rachelle on Wed. If it weren't for Rach, gran wouldn't go to bingo, nor would she ever win bingo because she can't remember what game they are playing or figure out when she has won, but I digress) anyway, it's my night off. It's quiet, and we can fool around or just have dinner and not have to worry about the 91 year old chaperone who insists on closing the house before dark and who is constantly on patrol asking what I'm doing.
Well things have been hectic and we missed date night last week. No big, we normally go out on the weekend too....but we go OUT and not spend much time in Casa d'Lucy. Well we went OUT to dinner and wandered around and such but by 10 pm we were ready to head home and watch tv. Normal stuff. Well, normal when you don't live with Harriet the Spy.
So we come home, and gran looks at the Dude like he is a serial killer (she's met him at least a half dozen times) and asks who he is in her not-so-quiet stage whisper....and I tell her that he is my boyfriend and we are going to go watch tv....in my bedroom with the door locked because harriet the spy opens every closed door (yes, including the bathroom door. can we say NO PRIVACY?) anyway, we close ourselves in, turn the tv on and turn the fan on and start cuddling.
30 min later the door handle starts to rattle....and I hear gran
I try ignoring her
"KENNA ARE YOU IN THERE"
Yes gran, I am. What do you want
"I"M GOING TO BED"
"DID YOU CHECK THE DOORS?"
I will gran. Goodnight.
I stare at the dude and we start laughing. Seriously? I'm 32. I can't even be in my own room?
I literally start to fall asleep.
areyoufuckingkiddingme? again? really?
Just checkin! Goodnight!
Yes she was checking on me.
Fifteen minutes later
*rattle rattle rattle*
I ignore it.
*rattle rattle rattle*
YOU GOT THAT DOOR LOCKED?
YES GRAN. SO YOU WON'T COME IN.
Seriously? oh yes. we are doing this again.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?
NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. GOODNIGHT GRAN!!!!!
Welcome to my life.
It's gonna be a LONG year.