Grasshopper No.5 has “bats”. You know the little black mice with wings that look sinister but eat their weight each day in mosquitos. Her landlord closed up some potential openings into her house and the bats seem to be abated (get it? Bats. A-bat-ed). I don’t think No.5 remembers the bats we had in our house in Sheboygan. They were slipping into the house through the fireplace. A glass front “screen” fixed it. No.5 needs a cat! Whoa she has a cat. I guess rabies are a concern.
Grasshopper No.5 has a special friend that also has bats. I think the bats have actually made it into his house. I know he is sealing all open holes feverously.
I need to talk about my caretaker, your Mom. She has joked in a devilish way that she would not make a good caretake. I wouldn’t either. The saving grace is that in my current situation there is an end point. In two weeks, I get my driving privleges back. In two weeks I will be well into my physical rehab program. You get the idea. This caretaker thing should be temporary. My caretaker has been with me every step of the way. She hides telephones so that if they ring, they will not annoy me or wake me up. She chases for meds, shops healthy foods and accompanies me to all scheduled meetings. She does this while eliminating the normal things in her life that she likes to do. So that for the time being, both our lives are that of quiet desperation surrounded by very few moments of “kick ass joy”. I love her!
I also thank Mom’s friend Jan. I cherish more than anything, an ice cold Diet Coke. The arguments rage about the negative effects of aspertame. During the last two weeks, getting a Diet Coke has been difficult. Mom has allowed me Diet coke without caffine. Yuk. Choke! Choke! Friend Jan (who has made a miracle recovery from a stroke several years ago) shared that she allows herself Diet Coke. Why? Because she likes it and it is a treat. Needless to say Jan’s opinion swayed Mom. Now I am back on the “hard stuff” Diet Coke. Thank you Jan.
Labor Day Week End begins. Enjoy the time off!
Love,
Dad