Temperature

Temperature is a funny thing.  I’m of the school of thought that too cold is better than too hot.  If you are too cold, you put on more clothes.  If too hot, it is often impractical to remove clothing.  Even naked, you are too hot unless you possess a nice cool water feature.  A pole of friends and the temperature they are comfortable yields a variety of results.  Generally, in the summer, the average is about 75 degrees depending on the house, the cheapness of the person and how comfortable people are with in-home nudity. With the old ones, that average is increased by at least 4 degrees.  Even at 79 degrees, Grandma is found under a big fluffy blanket.  At night, she has an electric blanket set on high.  Mom isn’t much better.  She is always cold.  Is the cause of their weird temperature needs due to age?  Do they need more iron? Is their skin weirdly thin? Who knows? The upshot is that old people like it hot (for everyone that went to a bad place with that comment, BAD PERSON).

Upshot is that there are different views in the house about temperature.  Grandma is the best since she is always cold, wearing fleece and under a blanket at all times. Very predictable.  Mom just complains and wants the thermostat turned up.  Dad is more unpredictable.  Mostly he leaves the temp up to us. However if he is cold, he has on several occasions, changed the thermostat to heat.  It is 90 degrees outside and Dad turns on the heat.  Logic is not his friend.  It was never really close but it used to be at least an acquaintance.  Part of Dad’s problem is that he has some scientific knowledge.  Thermodynamics says that heat rises.  Sure, great, no argument.  However, a house is not a closed system. Dad would close all air conditioning vents in my area of the house (downstairs).  Do that and the result is several rooms, including my bedroom, that are stuffy and hot.  Air movement is the key to a comfortable house.

I live in the lower level which is several degrees solder than the old one’s lair.  But it is still too hot for me at night most of the time.  Could some of the problem be the fact that I have 2 – 6 animals in my bed at any given time?  Sure.  But that is how I role so stop judging.  My one ace is that I actually have a job and it would be nice to be awake for said job.  I find it impossible to sleep when sweaty.  So the air conditioner remains on. I think we have established that the house can be as hot as they want when I’m away.  Evenings are it 76 and nights 78.  That way no one is happy.

Hobbies

Our family isn't really big on hobbies in general.  Any hobbies we do have to have a purpose.  My sister does scrapbooking and gardening.  Scrapbooking preserves family pictures and memories.  Gardening gives you a beautiful yard.  We don't collect stamps or paint ugly pictures. 
I'm not sure the old ones really have any hobbies, with or without a purpose.  If a hobby is defined as: "an activity or interest pursued for pleasure or relaxation" (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/hobby), then I guess their main hobby is watching TV.   Grandma likes to know what is going on in the world so news channels are a favorite.  It is ok that the stories repeat every hour; often it is all new to her.  Dad is obsessed with the Weather channel. He likes the local weather on the eights or something.  Never mind that this information is also on his iPad, weather station, a crawler on the TV or heck even gained sticking your head out the door.  Mom likes a greater variety of things from USA Olympic swimming trials to HGTV.  Her favorite shows are Ag News at 5 am and Sunday Morning on CBS.  
You could say that collecting things is a hobby.  If so, my mother collects pens.  She never wants to look for a pen so there are cups of them on most horizontal surfaces and handfuls in several drawers.  They aren't nice pens either; they are the free ones you get around town.  My Grandmother collects napkins and Kleenex.  They are up her sleeves, in her pockets, under her pillow and stacked in neat piles by her favorite chair and on her dresser.  Dad collects tools.  If he can't find a tool or the one he is using doesn't work right away, he goes to buy a new one. 
Maybe a hobby is doing things that make you happy.  If you ask Grandma what makes her happy she would ask you why you are asking her that and you would never get a definitive answer. I guess most people would have a tough time saying exactly what makes them happy.  So I'm just going to go with what seems to make them happy.  What makes Mom happy is getting things done.  At the end of they day she will reflect over the tasks that were completed and decide if it was a good or bad day.  My dad has a couple of things that seem to make him happy.  Telling people stories from his life is number one.  Don't bother mentioning that you have heard it before, it won't stop him.  He also likes to travel.  Well not exactly the traveling itself, it is the planning, getting ready and telling others about his traveling that really seems to make him happy.  Grandma is harder to read. She likes getting out and seeing things. 
So what about me?  If pressed I'd say that I like working with the beasts, updating the house and watching dramas on TV.  I love driving my car, sleeping late and having beer club after work.  If I were given some free time with no responsibilities, I would probably take up some frivolous pursuits but things need to get done.
So, like I said, we aren't a big hobby family.  But we do seem to be enjoying ourselves so that's good. Leisure time is overrated anyway. 

Shopping

Grandma is picky about most things.  Let's say she wants a green shirt.  She has, somewhere in her mind, the perfect shirt.  We went through the store looking at EVERY green shirt.  Too dark, too light, sleeves too long, sleeves too short.  Wrong weight, wrong fabric. Some suggestions are met with "Ohhhh God that is hideous"
Today we were looking for a jacket.  The one she has she doesn't remember.  Every time we give it to her she says it isn't hers and she doesn't want to wear it.  So Mom decides we need to buy her a new one.  If she doesn't remember the one she has, how can she remember a new one?  Never mind the logic, off we go!  We head to Kohl's since we have a 30% off coupon.  It is the end of June so we walk in to see summer clothes as far as the eye can see.  There are a few jackets and sweaters on clearance along the back. so we forage through them.  Hey, a white jacket in her size!  But the fitted shoulders are too big since Grandmas have curved in so much.  Mom still wants to buy it since it is on sale.  I talk her out of it since Grandma won't wear what Grandma doesn't like.  How about a sweater? No, they would make her look like an old lady. "Um, Grandma, you are an old lady,"  I say.  "But I don't have to dress like one" she responds.  Good point.  We find her a pink sweatshirt like jacket that is acceptable.  She asks why she needs another jacket as we head to check out.  I don't know Grandma.

Grandma Food Rules

People think I have weird food rules:

•  Breakfast food should only be eaten in the morning or morningish on weekends
• Pickles are evil and infect foods around them
• Raisins are the most deceptive of food since they try to fool you into thinking that they are chocolate chips in cookies. This leaves to extreme disappointment

Grandma is the queen of food rules.  Feeding Grandma is an adventure. She doesn't have much of an appetite. Part of the problem is that she has lost most of her sense of taste. This is probably due to the fact that she likes to drink her coffee as close to boiling as possible. You think I'm exaggerating but no. Anyway, if you have any hope of getting her to eat there are several rules.

• No onions. Apparently they saved her life when she was a child but she can't stand them now. No, I'm not sure how an onion can save a life.
• No mushrooms. "Why would anyone want to eat those things? Anyone who does must be crazy" But I like mushrooms Grandma.  “You are crazy.” Logical
• All pork must be accompanied by apple sauce.
• Oriental food will be sorted to ensure no one is trying to sneak in some onions or mushrooms. Other odd food bits (like red peppers) will be questioned to make sure you aren’t trying to make her eat something crazy. Generally Grandma is not a fan but if we do try it, it must be served with tea. She pretty much hates tea but she still wants it because that is what goes with Chinese food.
• Every time I make rice she says she has only had glorified rice.  I don’t even know what that is.
•  Mashed potatoes must have gravy.  Gravy is generally a good idea all around.
• Pizza must only have sausage or pepperoni. NOTHING ELSE. She is honestly confused by any other toppings like pineapple since that wouldn’t really be a pizza.
• Someone told her that a glass of wine is good for you.  She doesn’t and hasn’t drunk her entire life and HATES wine.  But she will choke down ¼ of a glass making horrible faces.  Grandma, you are 96 and healthy.  You got there without wine and hate wine.  Why do you insist we serve you some?
• She likes Taco Bell’s hard shell tacos.
• Every couple of days she suggests my Dad make a pannekoeken (like a pancake in an iron skillet cooked in an oven). She says that she hasn’t had them in a long time almost every day. 
•  If you go out to eat, order what you think she might like with the full knowledge that she will eat very little if any.  Don’t try not ordering her anything and giving her a portion of your meal. She will feel deprived.  
• She does like deserts but only a bite and only with the mentioned HOT coffee.  On the desert topic: there is apparently a conspiracy that all bakeries are in cahoots and use the same mass produced dough for every item.
• If she is around a buffet of deserts she will take one of everything, wrap them in napkins and put them in her pocket.  She may notice things in her pocket on the car ride home and tuck them into the seats or seat pockets.  I will find them much later.

There are many more rules but once you get them straight, she will through a curveball and suddenly hate something.  We used to be able to give her Cheerios for breakfast until she suddenly asked why we were forcing her to eat them when she doesn’t like them.

Cats an Grandma

Grandma was a little confused last night. She came out of the kitchen saying "there are two cats in there!" Not too surprising since we have 4. I told her it was ok, they were mine. "But how will we get them out?" she said. I explained that we didn't need to get them out what with them living here. I just know that some day I'll come home and she will have captured them and tossed them outside.

UPDATE:  I was calling Veronica (a cat) to dinner tonight and Grandma said "Maybe someone put her in the bedroom and shut the door."  Why did she say that?  I found Veronica downstairs but I'm wondering if Grandma is making plans.....

Toilet Trauma

Mom really wanted a walk in shower.  To save $10,000 or so, I decided to do this myself.  I have an "as long as" issue.  Meaning, as long as I'm ripping out the tub and replacing with a shower, I might as well redo the lanolium floors.  To replace the floors, I have to remove the toilet and vanity.  Since I'm removing the vanity, I might as well replace the countertop.  It is taking a long time.  I'm am on the home stretch though.  Took out the toilet and tiled underneath.  Now to replace the toilet.  The floor has been raised a little due to the tile and cement board.  I figured I needed an extra wide wax ring.  I got everything set up.  Bolts were sticking up. toilet was balanced on buckets to apply the wax ring.  Toilets are heavy and the alcove is small. I am strong but not enough to manuver a toilet over the drain and hover over the bolts and then gently/evenly lower the toilet down.  I needed Dad's help.  There was lots of debate over the best way to approach the problem.  Mom volunteered to get down on the floor to "guide" us but that just meant that we would have to step over her.  Dad and I get on either side.  First try, ring falls off.  Second try, tight fit getting both Dad and I in the area (we are not small).  Dad says "I'll hold the front" and drops his side.  I said several unkind swear words.  We finally get is hovering right and lower it.  It sits right on the tile.  No resistance from the wax ring.  Hmmmmmm.  Dad says it is fine.  I decide it isn't correct and remove it.  The wax ring is entirely intact and not compressed at all.  I think I need two rings.  I get to start over.  I hate to say this but I need a strong man to do this.

Mowing the Lawn

Dad likes to mow the lawn.  Good sense of accomplishment with little effort (it is a riding lawn mower).  Problem is, I have dogs, big dogs.  This means lots of poop and toys over the yard.  Now like I said, Dad is not a fan of effort.  He would rather just mow over the piles - not acceptable.  Through lots of lecturing and badgering, I now have him accepting the concept of picking up poop. The execution, however, is still a work in progress.  He wanders about like a tipsy chick wanders a dance floor, there is no logic or discernable pattern.  Whole areas are missed but at least there is SOME progress.  Sure, piles are still smashed and flung about but there is a bag of gathered poop.  Unfortunately, this bag is hanging from a branch in the middle of the newly mowed lawn.  Why not toss the bag in the trash bin? "I might have to pick some up later" is Dad's response. Sigh.
Last night there was a new twist to the battle.  Dad's new plan?  Start mowing and when he sees a pile he will stop the mower, get off, go get the pooper scooper and pick up the pile.  Seems like even more effort than just walking around with the scooper before starting the mower but Dad is also not a fan of logical thinking.  I put a stop to that plan and we went off as a team to pick up poop.  Dad started mowing and I went inside.  He then mowed over my new Elderberry plants.