Halloween Pursuit

Ahh, how Gertrud loves Halloween! Kiddies, candies, cute outfits and lots of visits. What more could she ask for. Those are all the things she loves. I remember last year she didn't get a lot of trick or treaters at her door, so she took matters into her own hands and went around the neighborhood and knocked at the doors of neighbors who had children and brought the candy to them instead. I thought it was pretty wild that she was hunting down the children who had missed her house, but also pretty cute. Since she had only moved to her new home recently and doesn't understand the ways of attracting kids to your house with lighting and pumpkins and other halloween decorations, only a few children had appeared at her door. I don't know how things went this year yet, but she is pretty ill and I don't think she'll be going around the neighborhood herself this year. I think this year, she may have to just sacrifice herself and Heinz and eat all the candy bars themselves. Not that she or Heinz will complain about that, since they are very sugar addicted. I suppose Heinz will start scouring the grocery stores tomorrow for the reduced candies. It is his long standing tradition to buy up all the drastically reduced chocolate and other candies he likes right after any major holidays. One year he bought a whole shopping cart load right after Christmas and put it into the freezer to keep it fresh. Well, it sure didn't help his diabetes and he was hyper active with sugar highs for weeks to come. He would sit in the evenings writing his letters till the early morning hours sometimes. Gertrud would often find him slumped over his letters having fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion chocolate still by his side.

Pre Halloween Indulgence

Gertrud was surprised at my little unannounced visit today. I caught her sitting in her armchair with a cup of tea and and a small plate of Halloween chocolates. You know the kind.... Small sized candy bars of all varieties. She happily offered me some. I don't know why she doesn't remember that I won't eat sweets. She and Heinz have diabetes and there is more diabetes in my immediate family. So I have good reason not to eat sweets. Anyhow, I said to her: " Mama, thank you for asking, but do you know what I see, when I look at that plate? I see diabetes, cholesterol, high blood pressure as well as an array of other diseases. You can enjoy it if you like, but I can not eat that. It doesn't bother me not to see it either." Gerdtrud responded by laughing. " Well, I like my candy and I just eat a little at a time." I can't say that I like seeing her eating that junk, but I understand that it is one of her small pleasures, however, I hope to avert the diabetes, cholesterol, high blood pressure and stroke that she has endured, as well as the heart attack that Heinz has had. People think my diet is too rigid at times, but I don't feel deprived. I eat lots of healthy fresh veggies and fruit and have lots of variety. For desserts I make home made puddings, tapioca, banana breads and eat lots of fruit. But I substitute healthy oils for butter and avoid processed foods like the plague. I eat whole wheat everything and I love it and thrive perfectly fine. For Halloween I bought 100% fruit rollups for the kiddies that come to the door. I feel good about not contributing to the consumption and addiction of corn syrups, and sugars in the young and if some is left over, well then I can treat myself sometimes without feeling too guilty.

Wondersome Times

Had a great visit with Gertrud and Heinz. When I arrived, Heinz was on the road beside his house intently rolling up a fire hose. For just one moment I was panick stricken and then I realized that he would have a perfectly rational explanation. (At least from his view.) When I approached him he was surprised to see me and I gave him a hug asking what he was up to. He got into a big story about how he had picked up some wonderful black garden soil and backed his truck into the yard, but once the truck was empty he had no traction to get back off the lawn. So being resourceful as he is, he used the fire hose to get a quick pull out. The neighbor had seen what happened and offered a pull. The fire hose has been used many a time for this purpose before. I know, I know, you say," Who keeps a fire hose around, and where does one even aquire one!" Well, I don't know the answers to that, except that Heinz has the most unusual things in his tool kit. Things you wouldn't normally think of. Things you wouldn't know what to use for most often. He has buckets of nuts and bolts of every size. Five gallon buckets of all different kinds of nails, lubrication for any type of machinery, assortments of hand sawed boards and who knows what all else. I dare not look too closely.
After saying hello and chatting for a while, I went in the house to see Gertrud, whom for once never laid a single complaint about her health and never even mentioned her upcoming appointments. I swear she was tipped off that I needed more material for my blog, but that's o.k. since I have a lifetime of stories in my mind to share even if she never did another weird thing ever again.
It was an unusual and almost frightening visit since she was soo normal and easy going. Well, all I can do is wait her out. I know it can't last. Old habits are hard too break.
She did however mention to me that her clothes hanger had fallen twice and I certainly laughed at that, knowing it was because she had hoarded too many clothes again, for her hanger to take it.

Perfect Moms

Ahh, yes, we all want perfect moms. Moms which are without faults, have no problems of their own and are always there for you. Turns out that reality is not like that. Moms are humans like we all are. My mom let me down many times in my life and I know I've let down my own kids in many ways too. It's human not to be perfect and life doesn't come with a script. We have to accept the knocks that come our way and make the most of it. How do we get past the hurts? Well, for one, we grow up. We stop blaming others for our problems and become forgiving, loving adults. We stop wallowing in our sorrows and pick ourselved up when we get knocked down. Then we look at our own fault in what happened to us. Did we have it coming? Maybe not, and if not, then we need to forgive and get past it. Act responsibly and learn from our experience. One thing is for sure. I forgive my parents for their faults and know the way they behave is due to their own life experiences and lack of knowledge in certain areas. I also know that I am loved. Loved as much as is possible by either of my parents. Heinz and Gertrude can drive me up the wall, but they love me and I love them. I forgive their faults and they forgive me mine. Now isn't that what it all comes down to in life?? I hope my children will see life the same way one day if they don't already. After all, one day we simply die anyhow, so why hang on to bad feelings about the people we really love. Love them now and bring them flowers. Don't bring me flowers to my grave, its too late then.

Inducing Anxiety

Sometimes I wonder about the way things work with Gertrud. Yes, she is legitimately sick and has lots of appointments to go to. I got another call today, while I was unpacking groceries, cooking and trying to put new bags into the trash bins. I was really busy and Gertrude was telling me about a call that she got, which incidentally was about an appointment that had been on our calender for over a month already. I tried to explain this and she couldn't understand what I was saying at all. She was convinced that it was a new appointment. I started to wonder about dementia right abut then  and so I kept having to repeat myself in different ways until she finally got it, to which she wanted to know if I would go with her. I told her to wait 'till the time got nearer as the appointment was not until December, but explained  that there wasn't much I could help her with since it was only an x-ray and Heinz would be there to help her anyhow. She replied very indignantly that she knew by now that I didn't have any time for her. So of course I got into explaining how I had planned to visit today but got caught up in things, however I would try to come by tomorrow.
The guilt trip however sent blood curdling in my veins and I thought my head would pop right off. By then I was so frustrated from the virtual juggling act I was performing, that when I finally got off the phone I went into a full blown anxiety attack. So much so that I actually had to change out of my jeans and put on pyjamas. I was tearing my clothes off like a mad woman feeling like I was drowning because I couldn't breathe until I finally got on my pj's, eyes bulging, I'm sure, and telling myself that I needed to stop everything for a few minutes. So I turned off the pots on the stove and stood on the balcony breathing in some fresh air, wishing I could have a swig of something strong, all the whilst telling myself that my parents will be the death of me yet. The old buggers will outlive me for sure and dance on my grave if by chance they don't have an appointment that day.

When does it end?

The appointments just keep coming. It's like a job. I am realizing that old people have lots to do just getting through appointments. They have appointments, to get them prepared for appointments for heavens sake. Wow! I can't believe it. There are appointments for bloodtests, which they take a week prior to seeing the doctor, and then the nurse for diabetes. There are the CT scans, there are the Dr visits to check the bloodpressure and medications and the appointments to the eye doctors and then appointments to pick up the glasses and then more appointments for feet and heads and every body part you can only imagine. Inside and out there are appointments for it all. It gets totally haywire and overwhelming.
All I can say is stay healthy my friends, because if not, you will spend your entire retirement going to appointments. And that answers your questions about why old people are in a rush as much as you are when they get in line at the bank.

Hoarding

Hoarding is one of Gertrude and Heinz' downfalls. They keep everything and they truly think they will need it some day. Everything from knick knacks to food or money. The all time favorite its clothing on Gertrude's part. She loves to shop. Her best shopping is done at the second hand stores. She buys clothes without trying them on which kills me because a third of the things she buys don't end up fitting her. Most of them are generally too small and she thinks she can alter them somehow. Then they hang in her closet waiting to be altered or taken back to the store, which will never happen as everyone knows that a hoarder can't do that. She buys more stuff whenever she goes out. One little item after the other gathers and before you know it there is no room left on any shelf or inside any closet. Her sofa is covered in dolls. All of them have names and homemade knitted sweaters and pants. She talks to them every day and makes sure they are sitting comfortably. She also gets very upset if you move them without special care as though they were real infants. So she will scold you. It is a real illness and causes distress for Gertrude when she needs to part with anything. When she is forced to move and part with any article, it causes her major grief. It took her months to get over cups and other little things which needed to be left behind. Now however she has found new places to buy things and she is happy whenever she makes a find. I humour these finds as I know they bring her little pleasures and she doesn't have much left to find pleasure in. The occasional meeting at the coffee shop or visit or small purchase she makes. Other than that life is hard on Gertrude. Her health is poor and seems to be getting worse and now the winter will keep her indoors for most of the time unless she gets better and the winter is mild so that the sidewalks are kept clean for her to walk on. Let's hope for Gertrude's sake that she will be better so that she can have her little outings which give her some reprieve from the dullness of her four walls at home.

Doing Things My Way

I had to see the doctor today. On my way home Heinz rode right past me on his bike, backpack on his back and baseball hat on his head. Looked like he was thoroughly enjoying coming down the hill on a beautiful fall day. He didn't see me as he was involved in changing lanes to head to the post office. I was surprised at his sense of adventure and how comfortable he looked on his bike. I felt happy for him as he looked like a young man enjoying his bike ride out. It gave me the idea of perhaps getting him a helmet for christmas or his birthday. His birthday is in May. That would set him up for next year's bike riding.
Heinz is now in charge of the daily mail check as Gertrude still is not feeling well. Next week she gets results for her tests back. I hope to feel well enough to go with her for the results so that nothing gets lost in the translation between doctor and patient.
She has had some invasive tests and then a fall which still have lasting repurcussions for her and so Heinz has more burdens. I feel bad as I would have visited them again by now, but I am not feeling well myself. So until then phone calls will have to do.
So Heinz went to do the gutters today. He used the plastic gutter liners which I bought in the gutters at the front of the house but at the back, he decided to insert chicken wire and have an experiment to see which ones would work best. Well, we will have to see. Twenty feet of the plastic stuff costs less than five dollars and two of them covered the front of the house and he needed another two for the rear of the house, which he already has, since I bought them. So I'm not sure what the need was for the experiment, but who am I to judge?

The Meaning of Life

Called to check on Heinz and Gertrud this morning. Things are going as well as expected. If they have the strength to squabble they must be fine. Gertrude was happy that my eldest sister had called and updated her about my recently married niece. She also told me that she misses her daily walks to the post office. The weather was so nice, I understood where she was coming from. I hate to see her so housebound. I wish they would go out to buy an electric buggy for her. they have the money to do so, but Heinz is too cheap to let her have it since it would cost electricity to keep it charged. And Gertrude doesn't wish to argue with him. She knows it would be a constant battle. I have already tried to fight that fight for her, but have now found more wisdom in letting her fight her own battles. I am too tired for that. I have my own battles in life.
I have been pondering the meaning of life lately and not to be too much of a downer, but I understand that we were only born to die. That is the truth, since it applies to all of humanity. Some of us die sooner than later, but that is the only difference. So that leaves us with the choice of what do we decide to do with the days between birth and death. Every day we are here, it is a new choice for us. Our only responsibility is that we make the most of every day as much as we can. That is my conclusion.

Health

Gertrude is in trouble. Her health seems to be getting worse. She has been undergoing all kinds of testing. We are hoping it is nothing serious. However in the meantime, she is getting lots of mileage out of the testing. Every blood test is a serious thing. Every appointment with dieticians or giving a urine sample is a big thing. As a matter of fact there is this matter of giving a urine sample that she can't do it in the office. She has to take the container home and then fill it to the rim and bring it back the next day. It's almost comical, if it weren't so darned inconvenient.  The flu shot is another ordeal for her. Well, she outright refuses to get it using the excuse that her arm stays sore for a full year after getting the flu shot and that there must be something wrong with her arm. Like perhaps an allergy or something. Either way she won't get the shot, even though her doctor really wants her to have it since she has had pneumonia in the past few years which even put her into the hospital on one occasion. But small as she is, she is also as stubborn as they come, but I still love her and worry myself silly over her well being.

Saving Electricity

I came to my parents home today to find Heinz sitting on the phone on hold with his local electric company. He was trying to buy the hot water heater which he was renting from the local company. He wanted to save the thirteen dollars a month rental fee and buy the tank outright. Figuring the tank was about 5 years old he expected to pay about two hundred dollars for it and thereby own the tank. The agent was trying to explain to him that the rental fees covered him in case something went wrong with the tank and that they would even cover any servicing the tank might need or replace it in the event it gave out completely. Heinz however wanted to buy the tank despite all this and was getting more and more frustrated with the agent, whose job it was to convince my father to keep renting the tank. Since he didn't seem to be getting anywhere with the agent I asked if he wanted me to speak to the agent to which Heinz happily relented.
Once again I explained the situation to the agent, who told finally told me the tank was only one year old and would cost over one thousand dollars to buy which would include the installation fee. At this point I became irritated myself. Knowing the house quite well and knowing the heater hadn't been installed within the last twelve months, I told the agent that it was an outrageous price and that the heater was at least five years old. One could tell just by looking at it. I asked Heinz to check for a date on the heater and he came back with a serial number. However, the agent insisted that the heater was only one year old and stayed with his price. I explained this to Heinz while I asked the agent to wait. Heinz got very upset, he was raising his voice at this point threatening to hire a lawyer to solve the issue. I told him not to be upset that he could buy his own heater at the local hardware store, install it himself and let the electric company come by and get their own back if he didn't agree to the agent's terms.
The agent, listening to my suggestion and my father agreeing, then decided he could check his files on the heater again. After a couple of minutes I got an apology from the agent saying he had made a mistake and the heater was already 6 years old and if Heinz wanted to purchase it outright it would cost 500 Dollars taxes included. Still outraged and feeling he was paying way too much for the heater Heinz reluctantly agreed to the price since he would save himself the aggravation and work of installing another heater. Now I figure that at paying 13 dollars and change a month rental fees, he will have the heater paid for itself in about 38 months. So in the long run I suppose he will save some money. I am glad I came to house just in time to intervene, before Heinz would have been even more upset and possibly have hired a lawyer  unnecessarily. It also made me feel good thinking I was able to save him possibly five hundred dollars, despite the fact that I also feel that even this was too much money to pay for a used hot water tank.

Auto Mechanic?

Heinz has a unique relationship with vehicles. Diesels are his favorite. They have to be standard transmission of course. ( I'm not sure why.) Right at this moment he is the only driver at home and has two very old VW's in his yard. Only one is running. The other is a truck. It's humungous and I personally hate it. Well, I hate all his cars. They all have idiosyncosies which make me crazy. His red diesel has over 400,000 kms on it and just passed another inspection.

What makes me crazy is that he spends more time working on his cars than he does driving them. He is super proud that they still run with that many km's on them, but fails to see the folly of spending all the money on parts. I swear he could have bought a new car by now with just the money he spent on parts. Never mind counting all the hours spent under the hood. Just recently he thought his grandson was whacky for wanting to let go of his car, which also has over 400,000 kms on it. He feels that as long as he is doing the repairs himself and keeps the car running he is saving money. So there is no talking sense to him on this issue.

 If you've ever been in any of his vehicles, you will undoubtably notice the strong smell of gas or diesel and if you go for a ride with him you will undoubtably suffer car sickness as a result. You see he keeps rags under the seat which he uses when he checks the oil dip stick or spills a bit of gas when he overfills the tank. One day I reached under the back seat of one of his vehicles to hand him a rag which he asked for and was confronted with one of my discarded panties. I had moved and left a bag of old clothes behind which were to go into the garbage. He had gone through the stuff to pick out "good rags". Needless to say I was incensed. I couldn't believe that I would find one of my panties under his seat to be used in public to wipe his hands on or the oil dip stick. I immediately disposed of it in the nearest garbage bin. I think I was disgusted for the rest of the day and told him I had better not find any more of my clothes used for rags.

He also has a penchant for driving on long hauls until he almost falls asleep. Then when he gasses up, he generally puts gas into the diesel car/truck or vice-versa. Driving from British Columbia to Ontario this usually happens to him somewhere along the trip and he then needs a tow and siphons off the gas or diesel which he then puts into gas cans, which he will buy, so as not to waste the fuel. This fuel is generally used for the lawn mower which now coughs regularly whilst he wonders why.

Slip Sliding Away

Mom was complaining to me that she was having a hard time getting out of the bathtub every day. So we decided to come up with solutions. We also brought in the occupational therapist to make good suggestions. First we found out that Mom couldn't get out of the tub because her knees are too weak and she was afraid of falling. Solutions seemed rather simple. A bathtub chair, anti-slip grip tape in the tub and a properly installed grip on the wall as well as a grip on the bathtub and a hand held shower head would solve the issue. All was done and things were going well.
Then Heinz came back from his last trip from his move to their new home. After a couple of weeks the grip on the tub was gone. Today the chair legs were only half as tall as before. Obviously Heinz has cut them off. His purpose is not known to me, but I know it will only make things harder for Gertrud to get out of the tub again. I feel angry, confused and frustrated. I also don't want to get into any issues. I feel too weak emotionally, so I just let it go. I don't know if I did right or wrong. Sometimes maybe it's just their affair, for better or worse.......

Dreaded Leaves

I found these wonderful plastic things at the hardware store which I thought Heinz could use. I am speaking of screens that you simply place into the gutter and it keeps the leaves from collecting in your gutters and going down the downspout getting things all clogged up. Since Heinz although being amazingly spry for his age, has been climbing up the ladder and cleaning the spouts twice already this year, I find it completely outrageous and not just a little life threatening. Oh, yeah and he would never consent to hiring someone for such a job, by the way. So I decided to try and find a solution. I bought these plastic screens on hopes that he would agree that they might be a great idea. I kept the receipt just in case he thought they were useless and I would have to return them. Lo and behold when I showed it to him and explained the simple instructions he loved them. They are a six inch plastic screen which simply bends and fits into the gutter. With several huge maples surrounding his home, he was at wits end on how to keep the gutters clean and cursed the maples, wishing he could cut them down. Being a little obsessive about these type of things he would likely clean them several more times before all the leaves were fallen and the snow came. The maples are however on the neighbors line and there is no chance of them being cut down since they provide much needed shade in the summer months. Now if he just doesn't break his neck installing them, I can rest assured that he won't climb up the ladder too often anymore, especially on windy days. I feel worried whenever I think of Heinz because he is always attempting the impossible and has had some near death situations because of it. It doesn't however slow him down at all. He keeps going strong. His motto being that if he slows down he will die. One more problem solved, more to come tomorrow, I am sure.

Days of Hiding Out

Well, I haven't felt my best. That's why I didn't write yesterday. I've had some horrible news and feel very sad these days. I've been avoiding my parents. I figure they can manage without me until I can get myself back together again. I am not sleeping well, even with aid of medication. When I do finally sleep, I get nightmares. I feel physically and mentally empty. I can't find energy to move. I am not motivated to do much. The last conversation I had with Heinz was to tell him that I was feeling horrible because he didn't call me after my mother had taken a fall and that he was negligent in not taking her to a doctor. I was very mad and told him that they were both reckless and irresponsible. I haven't heard from either of them since. The weather has been bad. Fall has come with a vengence. Lots of rain and wind. Enough to knock the power out for about an hour. Of course I tried to check on my parents during the outage, but couldn't because they have this digital device attached to their phone lines because Heinz feels that it is imperative for him to have a fax machine. Due to that, whenver the power is out, I can't even call them. Another crazy fact. Makes absolutely no sense for seniors, but I've tried to talk to them about it to no avail. Another day in lala land.

Not All Days are About Them

Today was a me day. Yes, caregivers need time off. I spent mine visiting a sick friend and then entertaining myself at the casino. I took twenty dollars and had some fun. It was o.k. Not that I want to gamble all the time, but this was one of those days that it really helped to be in a very highly charged atmosphere, where you don't have time to think. It was great. It was about one hour of complete down time and it felt great. No thoughts of anything or anyone going through my mind. It sure was worth twenty dollars. The only job I had today was to call my parents and inform them of a cancellation for Gertrud's cat scan and set up a new appointment. Totally easy today!

Another Crazy Day

Today is coffee and cake day. I meet Gertrude to make up for not being able to go for her dietician appointment. I had a bad night's sleep and I am tired. I put off calling her till almost 11 am. Finally after my first fake coffee (chickory) I am awake enough and brave enough to call. I brace myself and dial.
Mama answers with a weak voice. I ask her how she is feeling and immediatly regret it. I know that this question always leads to a lame discussion about the regular aches and pains of getting old. Today is special though. She gets quite excited as she tells me she has had a very bad incident. "Oh,oh!" this can't be good I think. She proceeds to tell me about her trip to the mail yesterday. Apparantly she couldn't push her walker and hold an umbrella at the same time, so she chose to take her umbrella to go up town. She forgot to use her cane though too. She made it o.k. to town and to the mail. On the way home however she ran into trouble. Just as she was three quarters up the hill, she got very dizzy. On her right was a concrete fence about three feet tall. Her dizzy spell got bad enough that she lost her balance and landed on the concrete. She now has a very big bruise on her knee and elbow. As soon as I heard I got dressed and headed over to her house to check on her. She was still wobbly on her feet, but refused to go to the doctor. She said nothing was broken and all she needed was some rest. I was upset that Heinz hadn't called me the day it happened and that he didn't take her to the doctor right away. Apparantly he only gave her hell for heading up town for the mail in bad weather especially without her walker. So I blew a gasket and told them that between them they didn't have an ounce of good sense. Then I left and felt bad for the rest of the day, wondering what on god's green earth I was going to do to keep them out of trouble. I realized once again that I am helpless.

Going Postal

One of Gertrud's most obsessive habit is to check the mail. She is more reliable than the post man himself. It drives everyone around her nothing short of crazy. Today was a rainy day and Heinz drove her to her appointments in the morning after which they checked the mail and did some shopping before heading home. I had other errands to run, which I looked after and also needed to get an immunization and bloodwork done after which I went to the mall for a while and had a coffee at my favorite coffee shop. While sipping my coffee I decided to check on my mother and give her a call. Heinz answered the call and was quite worried and upset. He told me that "Mama" as he calls Gertrude, had gone out again.
"She simply put on her blue running shoes and coat and headed up town to check the mail, even though it's pouring rain out. I tried to dissuade her," he complained, "but she just wouldn't listen. She insists that she needs to check the mail in the afternoon since it isn't all sorted until at least 2 pm." He sounded beaten. " I don't know what to do about her. I can't stop her," he said. I told him not to worry, that she probably just likes getting out for the fresh air, which seemed to soothe him a bit, though we both know that she is "postal" as we like to think of her obsessive compulsiveness regarding the mail.
In my own mind though, I think she might have been trying to catch me having coffee when I was supposed to be at her appointment with her. Yes, she needs to check her mail, daily and of course late in the afternoon, but at the same time she likes to keep close track of my comings and goings which sort of makes me feel paranoid. 
Then again; just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean that nobody is following me.

Telephone Plagues

The phone rings. Ahh, how I dread to answer it these days. Once again the sweet voice of Gertrud assaults all my senses. She has a certain voice that she uses when she knows she is going to tread thin ice with me and it's this voice she is using now. So right away my defences are on total alert, but I tell myself to be patient and not to jump to conclusions as to the nature of the call. So as I listen, she explains that she just woke up from a nice, little nap and was thinking about tomorrow. Once again I knowingly take her bait and ask what exactly she needs to talk about and she says,"Well, I wanted to know if you were coming with me to my dietician appointment." I answer by reminding her that we have already discussed this earlier in the day and that I can't make it. So the sweet voice says: " Well, something might have changed." I tell her with ever more patience that if something had changed, I would have called and let her know. Now this answer totally displeases her and her tone now changes from sweet to completely annoyed. She replies: " Well, I wasn't in the house all day you know! I could have missed the call." The last thing I hear is the familiar click of the telephone being hung up on me. Hmm.

Overcoming Language Barriers

Gertude went to the bank alone today. As she often does, she starts talking to herself without really being aware of it. She needed to stand in line for a while, shoving her walker and digging into her purse for her wallet. This is in itself a feat, since her purse is filled with several wallets, each for different purposes. One for grocery money, one for paying bills, one for saving for small items such as a new purse or shoes etc. and one for coins. Then she carries just about all her vital documents. Everything from her expired passport to expired driver's licence and some actually valid documents like her health card and so on. Her purse therefore weighs a ton. So as she was digging through her purse, vis a vis filing cabinet, she noticed a young woman in her early twenties also waiting in line wearing high boots with her skirt. Gertud thinking this was outrageous since the weather was beautiful and about twenty-two degrees Celsius started mumbling to herself in German: " I think she might have a screw loose," upon which the girl turned around, looked Gertrude up and down and said: " No, I don't have a screw loose and I can even understand German since my parents are both German." The girl laughed it off, I suppose since Gertrud's dwarf sized old body pushing a walker makes such a fragile impression. Gertrude must have seemed simply comical to her, for which I am grateful, since many a person would have been insulted, and rightfully so I might add.
I explained to Gertrude, that many young women wear boots amost all year round these days as part of fashion and not trying to keep warm. It was simply astonishing to her that this should be the case and she simply frowned about this new practice of wearing boots in warm weather remaining convinced that it was a crazy practice.
I also tried to impress upon her not to be speaking to herself in public like that any more because she could get into lots of trouble should she insult the wrong person. Once again she thought I was simply over sensitive and waved me off.
So much for trying to teach an old dog new tricks.

A Day of Rest

Today was seemingly unremarkable. As far as Heinz and Gertrud are concerned, their immediate food issues are solved as I left them with enough left overs for a couple of days including that lovely pumpkin pie, which I sort of wished I had taken home as I am craving it myself now. At home I cooked a ten pound turkey today and have enough left overs for at least 7 more meals. I went easy on myself and forgot about the cranberries and stuffing but went big on the veggies. Asparagus and butternut squash. No dessert though. Now I am beat. That was way too much cooking and activity for me. My body doesn't want to co-operate for all that cooking anymore. Well, Gertrud called today to prepare me for her upcoming diabetic nutritionist appointment. Turns out I have an appointment of my own that day, so I cancelled out with the promise of meeting her for coffee and maybe a piece of cake the following day. I knew I would have to make it up to her somehow, since I already let her go to an appointment two weeks prior.
She was pretty disappointed that I couldn't take her to the dietician, but I know she will be fine. She is tougher than she lets on mostly. Last time we were at the dietician's office Ellen the dietician asked for her height and weight, which Gertrud didn't know, but I helped as was my duty, by telling her that my mother was approximately two inches taller than a garden gnome and about one hundred and ten pounds including the rocks in her pocket. The dietician laughed, and so did my mother. It's how I always lovingly describe her because she is barely five feet tall and had been weighed at the doctor's office just a few days prior. I will go with her again next time, just to make sure things are on track with the dietician. Communication problems could always arise after all, and this is Gertrude's major problem when going to appointments, aside from her not understanding directions too well. I am reassured however knowing that if anything is amiss, I know I will get a call from either party or both.
That is simply what happens as your parents get older. You gradually get to go to most of their appointments and take care of most of their correspondence. Another thing to be grateful for this Thanksgiving. :)

Two Beers and Turkey Goulash

Once again the phone rings at noon. It's Gertrude. In as sweet a voice as I know she can muster, she asks if everything is alright with me. I decide to go for the bait and ask her why she would ask. She replies sweetly that,"Well, I thought you had fallen ill, since you aren't here yet." Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, I say," No Mama, I am feeling just fine and it's only noon. I thought about coming around three o'clock and that would be early enough to cook supper. So of course sounding terribly disappointed, and confused she says," Well, don't most people eat at lunch time?" I answer with as much patience as I can muster that yes, most people eat lunch, but also supper and that I was coming to cook supper and so she can expect to see me about three o'clock.
Feeling guilty, I end my coffee with a friend at the coffee shop early and go home to pack and head into the dreaded dragon's den. I prepared by bringing my favorite pot, knives, stir and ingredients for turkey goulash plus the much needed pumpkin pie and two bottles of beer which were designed with secret intent. Heavily laden I arrived at my parents house with intrepidation. How would things go? Could I get through cooking the meal before major arguments erupted between Heinz and Gertrud and would I be able to hold my temper if things should go awry? Major concerns and hesitations haunted me on the trip over. But, I had my secret weapon with me....
I managed to get over there early at about one thirty and was greeted happily. No thick air upon arrival. "Great!" I think, good start to the visit. Putting down my pack and bag of groceries I look at Heinz and wonder at his new shorts. ( The man has never worn shorts until he moved to southwestern Ontario last fall. Even in Australia he never wore shorts.) As I check out his shorts, I notice that they are old green workpants cut off sort of crooked at the knee, no hem in sight. Of course, Gertrude makes her usual sarcastic remark. " Like your father's new pants? And look at his knees!" Giving her a look of death, letting her know not to start something, I turn to Heinz and remark that it's a great idea to stay comfortable in the hot weather upon which he claims that he is simply recycling since the knees were worn out in that particular pair of pants. He was busy making a big stack of whole wheat belgian waffles.  (A recipe I had given him on a previous occasion.)There must have been at least fifteen or more waffles on the plate.  Heinz does everything in bulk. It's his way of saving time and money. He buys fifty pound bags of wheat flour, and bulk of everything in the household.
First I examined the meat. I was surprised at the general look of it. One piece was a turkey breast while the other piece was upon closer examination the turkey back. I tried to put out of my mind how the turkey had become so disfigured and deboned the turkey breast, without a hitch and told papa I couldn't use the other piece. There were lots of pointy bones sticking out and not much meat. He decided that anything I couldn't use would be put aside for soup. The solution was pleasing to both of us. I carefully washed the turkey meat I was going to use for supper and then proceeded to wash and cut up the veggies at the table. My mother sat opposite of myself. She suddenly looked me in the eye and said, "Sabine, I have to ask you a serious question." My mind starts racing. I know this could spell trouble on just about any front. One can never even begin to guess where this might lead. So as cool as a cucumber I tell her to go ahead, feeling inside that I had just opened up a landmine. So Gertrude goes:" Well, I was in a deep sleep last night, and suddenly I felt a hard pain in my back and when I opened my eyes, I see your father rushing from the room. I think he gave me a hard kick in the back and then ran away. I can still feel the pain you know. But your father insists that I must have been dreaming and that he was asleep in his own room. What do you think? Do you think it could have been a dream on my part?"
Well, so I burst out laughing and have to stop chopping for fear I might chop my fingers off. I take a look at my father, who is grinning and shaking his head as he is packing away his waffles. I try to assure her that it really sounds like a dream to me, but add jokingly that the way they always squabble, perhaps Heinz was angry at her in his sleep and came to her room sleepwalking to give her a kick. I can't help but laugh at the suggestion and see that she is not entirely convinced that it was a dream. Then I quickly switch the topic before it actually leads to serious accusations. I have put the beer in the fridge and am quickly preparing supper. Heinz whirls around me steadily doing one thing or another. Finding covers for pots and watching intently what I am doing. I explain the vegetable I have brought for supper. Boc choy. I decided to let them try something new. I show him how to steam it and add the spices for taste. I cook the broad egg noodles and finish the meat. Heinz decides that the water from the noodles and bok choy should be saved and used in the upcoming turkey soup. I decide I now have one more thing to be thankful for on Thanksgiving, being that I don't need to be around to eat his soup. Seeing that Gertrud isn't participating I suggest that she help set the table. She doesn't look thrilled with the idea, but submits to the pressure knowing there is a good dinner in the works for her. Finally supper is done. All without the expected major hitches and I serve it up. This is where the beer comes in. The timing is everything here. I serve up the turkey and give him the beer with supper.
We enjoy our dinner and Heinz even serves himself to a second helping. He loves the dark beer and it's starting to work its charm. Heinz groans how full he is getting and he is starting to look a bit sleepy. I tell him the recipe for the goulash is on the noodle package which he promptly decides to cut out and tape to a piece of paper telling me that he doesn't have a cook book and this would make a great start.
I quickly clean the dishes and put them away then sit down to show him the pictures of my trip to Quebec. After about fifteen pictures he is quickly fading. Slumping onto the kitchen table he is out like a light. My plan has worked perfectly. Between the turkey and the beer he never stood a chance to start in on politics, old stories or arguments with Gertrud. However Gertrud gets angry and tells him to mind his manners and go lie down on the sofa, but its too late. Heinz sleepily tells her he only needs a minute's rest and puts his head back on the table. I then give Gertrud her turn at looking at the pictures. I show her a picture or two of the old houses and boulevards and she says to me: "Where are the pictures of you and your friend? That's what I want to see." I explain that there aren't any and Gertrud flies into a fit. " Well, I don't want to see pictures of houses and streets she says. I'm not interested in that. I want to see pictures of you and your friend. If I can't see that, then I don't want to see any at all." Astonished at her outburst I decide to call her bluff and close up the camera. Then I slowly pack up my backpack with my pot, utensils and camera and bid them both a farewell telling them I will see them soon. Ugh.

Let the Turkey Games Begin

It's almost Thanksgiving, so turkeys are on sale in all the supermarkets. Heinz proudly told me a few days ago that he had bought not only one, but two turkeys. "Wow," I thought," that's one turkey per person at thanksgiving. Since they are not expecting company." But lo and behold I was mistaken. Heinz was blissfully unaware that it might have anything to do with an upcoming holiday that turkeys seemed to be on sale. So as he has done in the past, one of the poor birds had already become a project for dissemination. As I cringed at the thought, he proudly proceeded to tell me how he had partially defrosted the turkey and then cut it into decent portions for himself and Gertrud and then frozen it again. Aside from the salmonella factor, I also hated to think of the poor bird being attacked by Heinz with the saw and hatchet he uses for this purpose. So with severe doubts on whether I was doing the right thing, I informed Heinz and Gertrud of the upcoming holiday and offered to come over and cook them a nice meal.
First of course I gave great thought as to what to cook and since turkey is tradition, but a whole turkey dinner would be too much for me to handle, I opted for a simple turkey goulash over broad egg noodles and a pumpkin pie for dessert. That said, I now told Heinz to defrost a turkey breast. I went through great pains explaining that it would need to be taken out of the freezer and put into the refridgerator to defrost. I also explained to Gertrud who was on the extention line that this was very important for me as I would not eat meat defrosted on the counter. I am afraid of salmonella and would not be able to eat it. This conversation happened on Friday and supper was to be had on Sunday.
This morning bright and early I woke up to the phone ringing. It was Heinz. He wanted to know whether I was coming over to cook supper later. Bleary eyed and somewhat confused, I reminded him that I was not cooking until Sunday, upon which he explained that he needed to call me since he had taken the meat out of the freezer the night before and had let it defrost in the kitchen sink and if I wasn't coming over until Sunday he would need to put the meat into the fridge.
First my heart sank and then I got upset. I asked him if he hadn't understood the instructions I had given him night before, upon which he explained to me that the meat would not have been ready on time, so he decided to hasten the process by leaving it in the sink overnight. I decided to give up the argument since I knew I couldn't win. The problem however was how could I eat this meat. I still don't know how I will do it. I've thought about bringing something different to eat for myself, but I know that this won't go over well. So I guess I'll have to bite the bullet and cook everything really well done and hope I won't get sick.
The trouble is that Heinz and Gertrud are forever doing this type of thing. It simply drives me crazy. They always leave food out and then eat it later. I am surprised that we kids survived their cooking. Soups stay out on the stove overnight and then simply get reheated. I have been stressing the importance of putting stuff in the fridge asap after cooking, but the truth be told, I think they just ignore me thinking I'm too finicky. Gertrude often complains that the food is not agreeing with her and I always wonder if she ate something that has been sitting out too long. The doubt never subsides since whenever I visit them, there is food sitting out and I tend to wonder how long it's been there.
But tomorrow I shall cook. I shall overcome my fear of dying of salmonella one more time for their sake because I love them and want them to have a good time and then we will proceed to the next adventure in the lives of old codgers who do things their way because that's all they know and don't see any reason to change.

p.s. Gertrud ate half the sweets I brought I back from Quebec and Heinz ate all the creton.

Cooking Corn

Well, today I called Gertrude to ask her what she was up to. She said that Heinz had bought a couple of corn on the cob. I know that this is not a staple in their diet and so I was a bit surprised at their sense of adventure in trying something new. Now corn is not entirely new to them. They have eaten it many times in their lives. Often at my own house and sometimes at my sister's home too. Just they never cooked it on their own that I knew of. However corn is quite easy to cook and I thought nothing of it when I inquired as to how they had enjoyed it, upon which Gertrude became very agitated and told me that the darn stuff had been in the pot boiling for the past three or more hours and wouldn't soften up. " Hard as a rock, I tell you!" she virtually yelled. "Totally inedible!" she added with disdain. " I almost broke my false teeth on the stuff." After taking a very deep breath and trying not to be too incredulous at cooking corn for three hours, I explained how easy it was to cook corn to which she simply answered, " Here comes your father, he wants to speak to you."
So you see, sometimes even the simplest tasks can become hard when you get older.

Bringing Gifts

So today I went by to visit Gertrud to bring her and Heinz the little gifts I had brought back for them from my visit to Quebec. I know that my gifts weren't necessarily healthy for them, considering their diabetes and cholesterol problems, but they love their sweets and fatty foods and I figured I would let them try just a small taste of typically, wonderful quebecoise fare. So I brought back a small amount of creton and maple fudge for them. A little fat and a little sugar! Something for everyone. Gertrude, or Mama as I call her, went straight for the fudge. She cut a square in half and popped it into her mouth. Grinning from ear to ear and the occasional "hmmm" told me I had brought back a hit. She held the box out to me indicating that I should try some. I generally avoid sugar in my diet, but knowing she would not let up until I tried it, I took a pea sized piece off the corner of one square and tried it. Of course it was incredibly sweet having been made with pure maple sugar and tasted simply delicious. Before I knew it she was furiously fumbling with the box trying to close it. Seeing her struggle with the plastic, I took it out of her hands, closed it and gave it back. Like a thief in the night, she looked around the room, then quickly added," I need to hide these before your father finds them." With that she opened the fridge and tried to hide them behind her yoghurt containers. Laughing, I told her that I had meant them to be shared, upon which her eyes just about popped out of her head, like she couldn't understand why in the world she should ever share them.
Then I explained about the creton and how it tastes a bit like liverwurst, which I know she likes. She smelled it, said it smelled a bit strong and pushed it away. I am fairly certain Heinz will be eating the creton, while she eats the fudge. The rest of my visit was spent watching her struggle with a mirror and tweezers trying to get the occasional whisker hair. At one point she had taken off her glasses and kept trying to get these annoying hairs. She then commented musingly that, "Now I can't see them any more. " So I had to remind her that she wasn't wearing her glasses and that they were lying on the coffee table in front of her. Thereupon she put her glasses back on looking quite pleased with herself, since now she could see and inquired whether I also had problems with facial hair and that it was a very terrible problem. Knowing saying yes would lead to heavens knows what type of conversation, I told her I was blessed with a hairless face. She then proceeded to tell me how lucky I was.
Heinz was working on his car today. He needed to replace the radiator on his 25 year old VW diesel. Being a former auto mechanic, he spends most of his days working on his cars when he doesn't work in the garden or trying to find something to fix on his house. He is your typical workaholic or as I often suspect an untreated manic-depressive. His philosophy consists of several ideas. One is that the world has nothing good left in it. It has all gone to the dogs. The other is that if you don't keep moving and working you will die.
He also generally can't sleep at decent times and writes letters, which I call small books, because they are generally 10 or more pages long. He writes on the front and back of the pages as well as around the edges, underlining important messages and sometimes switching to red ink to highlight things that outrage him. His letters consist of religion, politics and old family history delighting his readers with outrage and eventually depressing them.
This sleeplessness and depression often make him hard to live with. He gets moody and grumpy with Gertrude, which leads to the inevitable daily squabbles and arguments about anything and everything. You see, Heinz and Gertrude have never been a good match, but having grown up in families where divorce was not accepted, they simply stayed together despite their differences. So family members generally resort to running out the door when the squabbles begin, because they know that once it starts there is no end in sight and if you remain present you are sought after to take sides while things simply deteriorate. So if you dare to visit Heinz and Gertrud, take my advice and keep on your shoes and keep your car keys in your hand for the inevitable quick exit.

Home Again

Ugh, yes the nightmares have begun again. I just got home from a much needed three day break. This morning I woke up sobbing from a nightmare about Heinz and Gertrud. I can't get away from them, even in my sleep. I dreamt they had bought a condo and the neighbors were ganging up against them because they were making a mess around the grounds of the building. It was so like them, because as you see Heinz is an avid gardener. He needs mounds of manure. In real life he regularly goes to a place in town where the Amish and Mennonites tie up their horses and collects what he calls the horse apples. He considers them gold for his garden. Heinz will walk up town with a rucksack on his back for the groceries and mail he'll pick up and then have an old plastic bag for the horse apples, which he will proudly carry home, something like other people pick up doggie doo.
Dogs are his bane I might add. He considers them mostly useless animals, only eating and pooping with nothing to show for. A goat on the other hand is much more handy. He would keep one right in town, if by-laws wouldn't prevent him. Ahh how he loves his goat milk. I listen to the praises of goats on a regular basis. You see he used to have a hobby farm on which he kept several goats. I hear about how everything about goats is useful. The milk is wonderfully healthy and highly digestible, their meat is edible and their coats can even be used if one wished to have them tanned and of course their pellet type output is great for the garden. The most wonderful thing however is that you can feed them just a couple of bales of hay to get them through the winter. He simply doesn't understand why anyone would permit dogs but not goats in town. Argue the merits of companionship and loyalty that a dog might provide and Heinz just shakes his head starts once again and begins on a one hour tirade of the wonders of goats.
So next time you look at that puppy in the window, perhaps you should consider a goat, like Heinz would strongly suggest.

Introducing Heinz and Gertrud

Well, Heinz and Gertrud are Canadians of German heritage. They have lived in Canada for almost 40 years and have come here from Germany via Australia. Gertrud still has a very thick German accent, so that most people don't understand more than about 70 percent of what she says, which is sometimes simply put a god send and at other times just a curse. A TIA stroke also left her speach with a bit of a thick tongue which also attributes to people not understanding her too well. As well, whenever she decides, she simply throws German words or sentences into her conversations just to assure that she leaves the person spoken to confused for at least the next 15 minutes and wondering what the conversation really was about. This works especially well at the bank I might add.
Heinz also has a pretty thick accent, but his English is pretty good and well understood, especially since he decided to learn it the hard way: One page a day of the German-English dictionary from A to Z. This only being one of his many odd accomplishments, which you will find out about if you stick with me. They are both in their late 70's now and recently moved near me. They don't actually know where I live other than the city I am in. This is not without its good reasons I assure you my dear reader and you  will likely later agree that this is a very good thing for me. I am their youngest of three daughters and have been assigned by them to be their care taker till death do us part, so to speak....Heaven help me, since I had no say in the matter. To outsiders they first assume their role of cute, little, old lady and eccentric, hook-nosed, hyperactive, funny old man. BUT that is where the fun and antics only begin.
So be prepared for the ride of your life if you think getting old is boring and nothing out of the ordinary ever happens. I guarantee to amuse and bewilder you by proving otherwise and by describing my daily dealings with Heinz and Gertrud and the unreal problems that arise for them.