I had planned to be in the apartment today finishing off my short story. No. The caregiver was later than usual, then someone else showed up late. I get that she had a long ways to travel and that our regular one just cancelled this morning but I wish they would call. Monday no one showed up as promised so I called to hear them say they were sorry but working on a replacement. . . again. None came.
So I could make my blood letting appointment. No food or drink all day. I go in early only to find they are at lunch. With our regular caregiver who always shows up early to give me extra time, and me mistakenly counting on that, I had planned to do the grocery shopping before my appointment. No again. I had to do it afterwards.
And while I wait in the office for blood to be taken I have to fill out one of those electronic forms on how I am feeling. The kind you have to keep jabbing at the answer before it moves on to the next. I wanted to throw it across the room…but didn’t. Instead I answered questions that bordered on appearing suicidal. In other words I did not say “fine”. I did not say “okay”.
Then when the nurse taking blood does her nursely thing by saying, “How ya doin, hon?’ I was glad to have the mask on so tears got soaked up as quickly as I said, “Fine.” while looking away. Then I left, did the groceries without the list I carefully made out and left at home. I was glad no one I knew was in the store. One more “How ya doin?” and I would have just left without the few things I could remember.
The yard men and large pile of mulch are here when I get home but the nice trees promised to hide the neighbor could not be found after all. Holes are dug and waiting. We spend a half hour looking for a nozzle for the air compressor so they can pump up the tires on the the dump gator that has been tucked away in the garage. Lee used to drive it around and I have hidden the key so he was not tempted to drive through a wall.
When I got home he was napping and the caregiver was watching him. He seems a bit further down this week. So we make a good pair. He just wants to go home and I just want to go away.
Yesterday we worked on piling up rocks and both came back up very sore.
I work on my drawings but see changes reflected by my mood of late.
I just keep drawing over lines until it looks more like what I had in my head. The simplicity combined with a level of ignorance is quite satisfying.
And yesterday after going to get our takeout dinner and sitting with gin and tonics, I had time to open the package from Australia. It is Andie’s Covid walks. All folded and put into a leather pouch.
A lovely card with an image of one of her many boats often assembled in one of my workshops. All the animals and birds she gets to see on these walks! I love this gift. And it was wrapped in the poetry page from her newspaper.
Do we even have such things in American newspapers? I think not! We are the masters of dumbing down in this country. Just look who people vote into office. Look at our unwillingness to have gun controls and what it cost us on a daily basis. And today one of the dumber ones parked right in front of the cart return section. At that point I so wanted to just look up and scream to high heaven. Good thing I held back and got home without being hauled in for causing a scene in the Ingles parking lot.
Things will be better tomorrow. Another caregiver may or may not show up and I will or will not get over here with four hours of writing.