There are no entries for past five days. I dunno why.
There are always the starter ideas of the Saturday Six, or the Sunday Seven, or "By the way's" Weekend assignment, or the Photo Scavenger Hunt, or the Round Robin, or the Photo Assignment, or the Jabber Jar. Perhaps that's the problem, knowing where to start.
Wilma took her first outing on her new scooter. I went too, to Starbucks. Then the next day we took an adventurous ride across M and Olive streets to the Mall. We navigated Longs drug store successfully, and decided to try Baskin and Robbins 31 Flavors Ice cream but it was crowded with people no place for two scooters.
On through the mall we went to the food court. Wilma was oohing and ahing at her new freedom. We found a frozen yoghurt store and each got a chocolate cone. We pulled into a corner and licked as fast as we could to keep them from dripping down our sleeves. We ate so fast we got "brain freeze", that horrible pain you get when you eat ice cream too fast. We each chucked the last half away and started home.
When we got home we were greeted by new resident, Bob, who asked where he could get a haircut. "Oh," I said, "Wilma and I have just come from the mall. There is a barber shop open at the far end."
"Can I walk there? How do I get there?" Bob asked.
I went with him to the sidewalk and explained the directions, but he seemed a bit uncertain, and I repeated them. He was about to depart when a caregiver came rushing toward us.
Bob said, "Oh, oh, here comes that woman. Don't say anything. She's gonna talk me out of going."
"He's not allowed to leave the premises," the caregiver told me.
It is ironic. Bob is tall and stands straight and walks without any support, one of the few residents who could walk the six blocks to the barber shop, but he can't because he would get lost.
The only other resident, tall and straight, and walking unaided is Nancy, and she is already lost between her room and the dining hall.
In fact, the second most common question asked at the old folks home is "which way is my room?" The first most common question, and the most popular topic of conversation at the dinner table, is "What day is this?"
And we argue about it. What sense is there in arguing about the day of the week? Either it IS Tuesday or it ISN'T, and arguing won't make any difference.
There is no sense arguing about being old, either. Either you ARE or you AREN'T. And we ARE.