Friday, June 27, 2008

Guest Typist

Hello, my name is Stanley Hahn, designated typist for Chuck today. And it is an honor.  Chuck says (he is dictating)...

....I had a bad morning! The staff came in to transfer me from toilet to wheel chair but I was so weak that my legs gave out, and I sank to the floor.  Then it took the whole staff to lift me into my chair. I was exhausted, but unhurt.  Now when I have to transfer, I have to call for help...not one or two...but three care givers come to help me make the transfer. 

 

....Talk about loss of dignity...but I am well, even if out of breath.

I would like to make this funny, but I don't know haw to make the situation funny. Suggestions appreciated.  Stanley types 10 times faster that I, ( or so he thinks) so it should be easier to read.  Thanks, Stanley for your typing.

 

Gotta go...time for lunch but I'm not finished with breakfast yet...still sipping on a soda for breakfast.

 

See you later!

 

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Upside Down Night

Went to bed at eight PM.  Woke up at two AM.  Now everythng is out of whack. I'll talk to you in the morning wehn I am awake again...hope not still.

LATER 7:15 am  Finally got some rest.  Waiting for breakfast now.  Took  tour of garden.  Twiggy has the nicest crop of second bloom red roses in the garden.  More later.

LATER: 8:45 am  cALLED COUSIN bERTHA.NO ANSWER.  nO ANSWER FROM A NURSNG HOME? cURIOUS.  sorry about the Caps Key... too lazy to type ofver.  Breakfast a bite of Oatmeal and one poached egg.  Not  bad.  Off to play music for exercise class.  More Latler.

11AM: They had a doll show here with a lot of pretty dolls; etnic types and I was able to play some music for the fun and fitness..Mandy the nurse came and treated my various ailments. We had a heart to heart talk. More later.

2:30 PM  Lunch was a piece of chcken, mandarine oranges, cottage cheese.  Then a half an hour nap.  ..More later...

3:00 PM  Got put on new protocol.  Every transfer... chair to chair, chair to toilet, chair to bed, bed to anything...will be done with caregivers' aid.  Changes my life style IMMENSELY.

4:00 PM  Girlfriend Anne came over. We had supper together,then held hands through two and half men.

9:00 PM  A caregiver put me to bed where I stayed until four am. Two  caregivers got me up and I wnt out and looked at the waning moon. 

4:00 AM  Wrote this.  That's it for this entry.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Beein Too Pooped to Write

 I have been too weak and too tired to write any stories or amusing anecdotes.  How I miss it.  It is the best therapy for me. 

   Meanwhile, the archives are here... going back several years.  All on file, and all as good as new. 

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Found: Cousin Bertha

   I  found Cousin Bertha.  She is in a nursing home in Texas. She was mighty uncomvortable... but so  am I, today.  I did my best to be cheery.

   The family moved her on Wednesday, and I learned about it today, Sunday, that same time as her daughter did.

   more news later as it comes in....

Friday, June 20, 2008

A Word about Printers

..and the word is &%#@^. or it might even be "help"

 

Now, Angie, I am not whining.  This is plain cussing.

Are you in the market for a printer?  I would say avoid HP Deskjet 350 All in One. I bought it because it was cheap. But it was built to gobble ink like a sailor with a 12 hour leave drinks beer.  I paid less than a hundred for the machine, but since then, I have paid over a hundred dollars a year for ink.

But worse than that... the software has some idiosyncratic twist. If you run out of paper, it sulks for days.  It was my own fault.  I let it run out and I knew about the sulk. Now I have no printer for God knows how long. 

But I'm not whining.  I am swearing.

PS... The Inkoholic is working again.  I must remember not to let it run out of paper or ink. 

Snap amd Ginger

Snap and Ginger

When I was a child, my grandmother used o make up stories about two little puppies, one named Snap and one named Ginger. That’s Gingersnap, the cookie, you see, but it was not obvious to me at age six.

When I was a parent I made up stories about Snap and Ginger for my children, AND when they were parents they made up Snap and Ginger stories for their kids, my grandchildren. So Snap and Ginger lived on for six generations. That’s some life span for a pair of playful puppies.

Yesterday I wrote a story for a self-imposed writing assignment called Rover on duty. I put it online in my Blog and later in reading it discovered in wonder what a neat Snap and Ginger story it could become.

I played with the story this way.

Snap on Duty

We bought and moved into the Temecula house because of the wonderful back yard. It was fenced on one side by the house, and on another by spectacular view of the whole valley below, but on the other two sides was a gigantic .fieldstone sculptured wall.

It had been built by an artist whose name was never given to us. Most of the stones were granite stones found in dry riverbeds, but some were bit of lava, rough lava, that contrasted with the main smooth blocks of field stone.

It was plumbed for a fountain, but there was no recycling pump, so obviously when it was built times were different and water was plentiful. It was just as beautiful dry with cactus plants as it would have been with moss and water lilies. One flat fieldstone projected from the wall and was meant, no doubt, to hold a plant

Our two cats, Missy and Goneril liked to climb. Inside the house. they climbed furniture and drapes to sleep on curtain rods or the fireplace mantle. Outside it was bushes or trees or especially the rock wall, and they liked to loll on the projecting flat rock. Snap, the self-appointed leader of the menagerie watched in envy as they scaled the wall to their private sanctuary. After all, he was top dog around here He was master of the feeding dish and got the choice scraps first. He had a spot beneath the kitchen table witn Ginger, and cats were not allowed. But the cats had a place of their own, and Snap was not allowed.

Snap began to climb. He was no cat, so his first efforts were feeble.

Ginger used to say to him, “Cut that out, Snap. You’re not a cat. Why try to climb like one?“

Snap answered with histail drooping, “What a wonderful look-out place. Why should it be wasted on cats?” And he watched as the cats nimbly leaped from stone to stone.

Snap thought if I could just choose the right rocks, I could climb that too.

Ginger, although she did not approve of his cat-like behavior, said, ”Snap, remember when you were a puppy? You were learning to climb the stairs. You had to learn to get one hind foot up before you could get on the next step..”

“Foolishness,” said Snap. “That’s the way humans walk…one hind leg after another, and not using their front legs at all.”

“Well, watch the cats then. See if you steal their secret.:”

Snap just growled at that thought. But later he tried climbing the rock wall by finding places for his hind feet first, and his front feet later. Lo and behold, he made it part way up the wall before tumbling down, painfully striking the sharp stones.

He yelped in pain, but Ginger licked his wounds, and soon he was ready to try again. And this time he got farther before he tumbled again, and the fall was farther too. Ouch.

   Eventually he was able to climb to the flat rock. The cats were promptly evicted and had to settle for individual pieces of lava to nest upon,. It seems a cat can sleep on anything somehow. Rover was king of the mountain.

From his elevated post, Snap had a full view of the whole back yard and the streets and sidewalks in front of the house.

Snap was a “greeter“. That is, any person on the sidewalk had to be greeted by Snap.

If Snap approved the person then Ginger greeted too, but sbe always waited to see whether Snap would bark at the stranger, or happily wag his tail in welcome. If that person had a dog with them so much the better. That meant a smelling contest with each dog trying to smell the other‘s behind.

When the smelling and the greeting was over, Snap dashed back to his elevated post on the wall. and became the lookout for the next visitor. Ginger settled down at the foot of the wall, and said to herself, “Cats are cats, and dogs are dogs, and dogs should not try be what they are not.” .

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Dog on a Rock

   I lay in bed playing a writers’ game. There is no need for “writer’s block”. The world is too full of colorful images and adventures.

   Let’s see. Take any simple phase. Dog on a rock came to mind.. Two nouns: dog, rock. Dog is modified. He is on a rock. , We can do anything we like with the dog. We can make him a Chihuahua or a Mastiff or anything in-between and any color or any temperament we want. However, he is on a rock. The rock is unmodified be it Igneous or sedimentary. Is the dog on lava or sandstone? We decide.

I played with the phrase this way.

                                     Rover on Duty

   We bought and moved into the Temecula house because of the wonderful back yard. It was fenced on one side by the house, and on another by spectacular view of the whole valley below, but on the other two sides was a gigantic .fieldstone sculptured wall.

   It had been built by an artist whose name was never given to us. Most of the stones were granite stones found in dry riverbeds, but some were bit of lava, rough lava, that contrasted with the main smooth blocks of fieldstone.

   It was plumbed for a fountain, but there was no recycling pump, so obviously when it was built times were different and water was plentiful. It was just as beautiful dry with cactus plants as it would have been with moss and water lilies. One flat fieldstone projected from the wall and was meant, no doubt, to hold a plant

Our two cats, Missy and Goneril liked to climb. Inside they climbed furniture and drapes to sleep on curtain rods or the fireplace mantle. Outside it was bushes or trees or especially the rock wall, and they liked to loll on the projecting flat rock. Rover, our Australian Shepard watched in envy as they scaled the wall to their private sanctuary. After all, he was top dog around here He was master of the feeding dish and got the choice scraps first. He had a spot beneath the kitchen table and cats were not allowed. But here they were with a place of their own,

Rover began to climb. He was no cat, so his first efforts were feeble. Eventually he was able to climb to the flat rock. The cats were promptly evicted and had to settle for individual pieces of lava to nest upon,. It seems a cat can sleep on anything somehow. Rover was king of the mountain.

From his elevated post, Rover had a full view of the whole back yard and the streets and sidewalks in front of the house.

Rover was a “greeter“. That is, any person on the sidewalk had to be greeted by Rover. If that person had a dog with them so much the better. That meant a smelling contest with each dog trying to smell the other‘s behind.

When the smelling and the greeting was over, Rover dashed back to his elevated post on the wall. and became the lookout for the next visitor.

That’s why when you say “dog on a rock” to me, it brings back images of a wonderful rock wall draped with two lazy cats and a happy greeter. .

.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Great Cousin Bertha Hunt

   Hospitals sure are tight lipped. Almost every day I call Cousin Bertha in the hospital and we chat.  Chat about nothing, but we chat.

   Today I called and was told, "She is no longer here." Nothing more/

   Nothing more, just she is no longer here.  Leaves me wondering did she die? Surely the family would have called me. So she must have moved.  But where"

   Stay tuned.

 

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Joke on Myself

Freudian slip, I guess.  I had no intention of adding an entry...but what happened... I meant to flip to another site and instead... I clicked on the add and entry button.  What does that say about me?  I am compelled to write drivel for Dribble, whether I am ready or not.

I am really not... I am drugged out of my skull.  I am on 4 kinds of pain medication.  A patch, a nerve deadener, vicoden, and a lanacaine lotion.  It is a wonder I can write at all.

I seem to have lost my tact.  I was having a conversation with good friend Wilma and I told her she was not diplomatic enough. How's that for my diplomacy. She turned and rolled away silently. I hope the hurt doesn't last too long.  I need friends these days/

Girl friend Anne came to the old folks home to see me, and to make smores.  The activity director was serving smores and Anne knew she would need help in making and serving the thirty or so old folks who remember this treat from their girl scout camping days. Do you remember smores?

And Jackie, a former activity director came to see me, and other old friends here. We had a great time. These visits from old friends, and one from a new friend, are good therapy.  If I am sitting here in pain, but start to chat with a visitor I soon forget the pain and focus on the visit.  Visitors are better than pain pills.

Well, how was this for an entry that I had no intention of making in the first place?

Saturday, June 14, 2008

So. How Was the Music Session?

   The music appreciation lesson was exhausting.  Sheila talked to Doris any time I wanted to speak. How she managed to time it was amazing.  I am sure she heard NOTHING of what I said.
 
Before the session I took the daily song book with the orange cover and put it out of sight so it would not distract. Today is different..not fun and fitness.  I put it behind the drape but left an inch showing.  Mistake.  Semi-autistic Jeanie spotted it during the lecture.
 
"Orange paper," she screamed.
"There are 47 strings on a harp," I continued
"ORANGE. ORANGE PAPER." screamed Jeanie..
"And seven foot pedals the harpist has to use." I said.
"ORANGE PAPER. ORANGE PAPER. BEHIND THE DRAPE"
"That's the song book.  I put it there."
"Oh."Said Jeannie
 
It was exhausting.  Finally the 35 minutes were over.  I would say "never again" but I am on the schedule for next Saturday too.



Dinner with he Cat (RERUN)

Dinner with the Cat

For a while I lived with my step-dad. We were both single, and he did the cooking.

One day when he was away I had to fix my own dinner. I looked in the cupboard to see what was available. I found a bright red can of Jack Mackerel and I opened that. I had mackerel and crackers.

When step-dad returned he asked, “What did you have for dinner?”

“I had some mackerel from the cupboard.”

“What? I keep that to feed the cat.”

“Tasted pretty good,” I said.

After that he would frequently ask, “Shall I fix us some dinner, or did you have dinner with Missy?”

Still Groggy

   Up at 5:30 am and still groggy.  The reason I am up so early is because I went to sleep early...on he recliner in front of the television.

   I woke up on the recliner after a couple of hours.  The news was on but I had no idea what they were talking about.  Then it was a struggle to get into bed.  A jillion appliances to turn off, pills to take, the john to visit, PJs to don, all almost woke me up before I could flop down and go to sleep again.

   I have a tablemate who sleeps until 11:30 am,  getting up just in time for lunch.  Sounds wonderful to me.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Music Apreciation in the Old Folks' Home

   Almost every time I try something serious at the old folks' home,it ends in chaos.  Nevertheless I tr again.

   Because they needed something on the activity schedule, and because there is no staff here on week ends, they put "Music with Chuck" on the Saturday schedule. The old folks are used o hearing my keyboard in the morning at Fun And Fitness. I play background music for exercises.

   But for this session I have chosen THE HARP. A keyboard allows you to substitute any instrument into a recorded number  So for tomorrows session, I will change all the numbers into harp mmusicBetween numbers I will tell what little I know about classical harps. 

   It will be a music appreciation lesson.  The trouble is that attendance in NOT compulsory and my audience will soon escape.  Wouldn't you stay to hear how a Sousa march sounds played on a harp? 

   I will report tomorrow.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

So, Okay, I'll Explain It

   First,see the entry below to see what the joke was: Turnips really make a strw, but Parsnips stand alone

   You see, the flavor of turnips in a stew make it full and tasty. They add to the stew and make it better.  Parsnips, on the other hand, are strong and root-like. They only make the stew rangy and weed-like.  But boiled, buttered parsnips by themselves are deliciousThey stand alone.

Now, what is the message here? Is this a metaphor for life?  Of course it is  Some people when in a crowd dominate and ruin the conversation.  When some people are there,committees cannot function

   But if you have a converrsation with that person by himself, there is no crowd to impress, and he can be himself and he is delightful company.  He is the parsnip.  Alone he is fine, but in  a crowd (stew) he ruins the business at hand

  There.  NOW do you get it.

I Don't Get It

   I was in my recliner and not abut to move  A visitor stopped by my door and remarked, "I always look to see what slogan you have posted for the day."

   "Oh," said I, "I haven't posted it yet.  But come on in  You can help"

   He came in and I handed him today's slogan  It said, "Turnips really make a stew, but Parsnips stand alone"  He was clearly puzzled.  That amused me.  I asked hm to hang it on the door  He did so with great reluctance.  Clearly he did not get it.

   I said, " Sometimes there is nothing to get. That is part of the fun/" He hung the slogan hesitating and looking at me.  But he hung it, and departed, no doubt shaking his head.

   That, too, is part of the fun...for me.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Is That All You Wanted?

  

What human condition warrants thirteen different kinds of medicine?  That s what there were in the tin holder I dropped. Thirteen bottles of prescription meds.  All over the floor.  In the tin holder they were in order...numbered according to when I was to take each. Now they lay like pied type, in disarray.

   I left them for at least an hour while I considered the matter.  I cannot pick up all thirteen from my wheelchair. I pulled the cord for the caregiver. And nobody came. 

   So I got my "grabber", that reaching tool for handicapped folks and began to lift each one onto the bed where  could resort them.  They were round and escaped the grabber easily. Neretheless, I had them all but two by the time the caregiver arrived. She bent over, picking them up easly, and  puting them on the bed.

Then she asked, "Is that all you wanted?"  The "You lazy lout" was in my imagination. No it wasn't all, it is just that your timing was perfect

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

More About Sherlock Holmes

   Rarely has a fictional character taken on such complete personality.  You want to know what he looked like?  Yep, Basil Rathbone was the best.  But the non-Doylelike lines he was given to utter somewhat spoil the image  '

   Holmes' roommate and frequent companion in his adventures was Dr. Watson.  Watson's first name is rarely mentioned...so rarely that Doyle himself forgot and give him a different name in some stories.  Holmes himself called Watson by his last name as in "Elementary, my Dear Watson."  Incidentally, that line never appears in any of the stories.

   Holmes has mastered the art of the non-clue in solving cases.  For instance he found Silver Blaze, a missing racehorse by using "The remarkable behavior of he dog in the night time."

   "But the dog did nothing," points out Watson.

   "That was the remarkable behavior," answers Holmes.  He surmised the dog should have barked but didn't... indicating that the dog knew the intruder and leading Holmes to the solution.

   Watson was nothing like the obtuse character portrayed by Nigel Bruce. He wasn't dull or dumb.  He just couldn't keep up with Sherlock...who could? Strangely in the many version of Sherlock Holmes tales in movies if the portrayal of Homes is good, the portrayal of Watson is poor, and vice versa. In very few are both true to the original stories.  A recent PBS series had good versions of both Watson and Holmes, but then... put Holmes' words in Watson's mouth and even worse, had Holes saying things that Watson had said in the original tale.

   But they couldn't fool me...I knew my Doyle, and I knew who actually said what.

Monday, June 9, 2008

The Case of the Crippled Penguin

   You're right.  None of Conan Doyle's Tales was ever called that.  But I just wanted to brag a bit.  When I was an avid reader, one of my favorites was Sherlock Holmes.  At one time, if you opened a complete collection of Sherlock Holmes tales at random, and started reading, I could within in a sentence or  two tell you which tale it was from.  I was that familiar with the stories.  In fact, you have probably noticed a few figures of speech from Sherlock Holmes tales right here in Dribble.

   Just bragging.

I've Been Busy

    Have you been missing me?  I've been missing you.  I have been busy.. trying to get my pain medication balanced.  Need enough to ease the hurting, but not enough to make me loopy, confused, lost in a haze.

   I am confused enough as it is.  For example, I cannot do simple mental arithmetic.  I woke at 4:37, but I couldn't rouse myself enough to get out of bed until 4:51.  I asked myself how long it took me to waken.  I tried to subtract 37 from 51 in my head.  I simply could not..nor can I now.  I will need to write it down. That bothers me. Is it the medication that has dulled my thinking?  Or is it just me, dumb as a box of rocks?

  Life in the old folks home goes on... as goofy as ever  A caregiver was leaving my room.

CAREGIVER: Do you want your door open or closed

ME: Open, please.

   The caregiver goes out and shuts the door. I was amused.  But then a different caregiver was in a few minutes later and as she was leaving asked

2ND CAREGIVER  Do you want your door open or closed?

ME: Open, please

   Caregiver leaves...shutting the door.  Now I am laughing out loud.

Life goes on, from one weird thing to anoter.

The Presidmtial Election is Over

   It makes me mad The polls.  Today they announce hat the presidential race has been boiled down to the results of a few states.  Most of us don't count.  Why vote? The surveys have done it for you

   That's what happened to my favorite, Hillary. No need to wait until the delegates meet  You're finished.  Get out. We have decided.

   If I wee a delegate, I wouldn't even go to the convention  No need...except for the gifts and the free booze. (..and tell me, AOL, why did you change my text color in the middle of an entry?)

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

How Do You Say NO....

   How do you say no to people who won't take NO for an answer?

   Jan means well, but her enthusiasm blinds her to what others are thinking.  She wants this year's Fourth of July activity to outshine last years.  Last year we had wonderful fireworks, but a long dull, uncoordinated waiting period.  Darkness comes slowly in July. No need shooting off pretty displays before 9 PM.  And the old folks usually go to bed by eight.  Waiting until 9 is an ordeal. Year before last we shot off the fireworks in the daylight.  What a waste that was.

   Jan wants community singing before the fireworks, and will not take no for an answer. She expects me to provide the keyboard and amplifier and when I said I couldn't, she ignored that and said Of course I could.

   This  year I am wracked by pain, and loaded with pain pills.  I am so weak I have to call for help to pull up my pants.  But I am supposed to provide the amplifier.

   When next I see Jan I will say, "Here is the amplifier, here is the keyboard...take them NOW. Practice hooking them up before the fourth so you can run to Radio Shack and get the patch cords you need. They will be closed on the Fourth."

   Jan took the address of this Blog.  Maybe she will read this and understand that N  O means No.

DONE...She was delighted wth the keyboard and the amplifier and went off happily to Radio Shack for the patch cords needed.  It is going to be a delightful fourth of July Pageant after all.