Drifting

My mom is calling me Gigi today. Not sure why, but I respond.
I made her peanut butter on graham crackers with grapes on the side.
She loves peanut butter.
I've completed the usual morning routine, coaching her as she takes her meds, 11 pills in all,
not including the fish oil, flax oil and calcium that my dad supplements.
She forgets between each pill what she is supposed to do.
So I tell her, "place this one on your tongue, don't chew it, now take a sip of water to rinse it down."
I'm worried she is going to try and chew the fish oil. That will make us both gag.

I applied for a job with the Alzheirmer's Association for the Help Hotline.
It pays $15.00 per hour and I was thinking I could do it from home. I'm a perfect candidate. When people call, I will tell them, from my own personal experience, to forget about any kind of assistance, its a joke, and just start drinking. It truly is just a cruel cruel joke.

Ever work with Depends? Ever notice the enginuity of the undergarments for adults? Facinating.
No wonder that fatal attraction astronaut drove across county after her man wearing diapers.
They really keep you feeling dry. (Truth, if one of you ever has the opportunity to have to diaper one of your parents --feel free to contact me. I'll be there to talk you through it.)

I had a nice weekend. I left town on Friday afternoon and drove to my beach house at break-neck speed, with my painting supplies in tow. I spread everything out in the garage, including my giant black leather portfolio containing works from over 15 years ago. Nothing rang my sentimental bell though. So, I'm thinking of dropping the whole thing off at the Rag-N-Bone (it's like the Goodwill) in Seaside. Maybe someone can use the portfolio. Then, I popeed in some some Dave Mathews, poured a little glass of wine diluted with water (because I really don't want to become an alcoholic), set up a canvas and began to paint. It felt pretty good.

Oh, I must tell you. On my walk to the beach Sunday morning, a beautiful bald eagle flew beside me. He was only 4 or 5 yards away from me, at shoulder level. I was awe struck. It seemed like a gigantic gift in some way. I just know if I were Native American I would understand the meaning. And that is how I drove back to Portland on Sunday, remembering the eagle and feeling blessed.

I hope all of you have a great week. Its going to be beautiful.

xoxo Kristine