Mrs. P's Pickled Peppers

These are the pickled peppers Daniel dreamed about.

Daniel and I were watching television and there was a segment of flashback on NCIS. "When life flashes before your eyes, does it go forward or backwards," he asked. Well I don't know that it really does happen but I think backwards because how would you know what hasn't happened, I replied.
He explained very thoughtfully that sometimes he has dreams that come true. In other words, he knows the future. See this fine example of the pickled peppers above. When they decided on a team name for his classroom (it was a vegetable theme), they chose Mrs. P's (name withheld to protect the innocent) Pickled Peppers for the class Jog-a-thon. Daniel knew she would pick out this fake pepper icon above from the Internet. He just knew.  He also told me he has had lots of other dreams of the future that have come true but this was the one example that came to mind.

Einstein said we think time is linear but that is just our perception. We just don't know. So the next time life flashes before your eyes, which way will you go? Forward, backward, or somewhere else altogether? You decide.

Unrelated thoughts

-I don't think men in clogs is a good look, at least in the U.S.

-Though everything is Nan's fault, including this 'hurricane' it turns out mom does not have a hernia at all but perhaps something else as indicated by a scan of her colon. A colonoscopy is next.

-Storms rarely live up to the hype in my experience. No school today. No work today. This will surely be the case tomorrow. But will Sandy pack a punch? Time will tell.

It's All Nan's Fault

Everything is Nan’s fault. Nan has been my 82 year old mother’s helper for five months now. And my mother still doesn’t know where all her clothes are after her move to Rhode Island. “I know I packed them,” she says. “But Nan probably did something with them. And Nan doesn’t know anything about clothes.” What I think she means by this is Nan doesn’t hang the outfits that go together – together. Who knows, but to give Nan a bit of a break here, my mother has clothes spilling out from every closet and giant totes in every room of the house.

She misses her old helper Sabra. “She liked what I like,” she says by way of explanation. When I ask what she likes, she replies “Clothes, shoes, makeup.” That doesn’t sound like Nan to me nor does it sound like me to me. I take her out to eat – because everyone I know likes to eat.

Mom used to be into cooking but she doesn’t do much of that anymore. She even blames her lack of meals on Nan. Apparently when Nan ran into the Stop & Shop last time, she only bought her one Healthy Choice meal. As a result, she has been eating yogurt for dinner all week. I suggested she needs to ask for specifically what she wants. Par example, “I need five Healthy Choice dinners for the week.”  Hey we all need a scapegoat and hers is Nan.

I did ask Mom if she enjoys Nan’s company and she said, “Yes, she is very nice.” She also said something about how Nan was a hippie.

So they are very different. I think in a perfect world mom would find another Sabra – someone more like herself. This could be the job description:

Helper needed for elderly woman who likes clothes, shoes, and makeup. If you are into cooking gourmet meals, even better. Duties include: occasional cleanup, running errands, going shopping for clothes, shoes, makeup and oh food. Need vivacious, cheerful companion who is a girly girl. And don’t tail after elderly woman in the grocery store. She likes her space.

I reminded her: There is only one Sabra.

Nan took mom down to TJ Max on her birthday. She told me she shopped in TJ Max for two hours and told Nan to skedaddle. I guess Nan did and when I arrived to pick her up for her birthday dinner she reminded me of Minnie Pearl in her new sweater with the price tag ($12.99) prominently hanging off her garment. It is amazing that my mother can walk around shopping for two hours but cannot walk 100 yards for any other reason. Only shopping for food and clothing seems to motivate her.

She needs a little motivation at 82. We just celebrated her birthday and she can’t believe she is that old. When she looks in the mirror she finds it completely depressing/distressing. Ah, yes beauty fades so we must rely on other things like clothes, shoes, makeup. . .Oh and more thing -  it’s all Nan’s fault.  

Unrelated thoughts

• I was talking with Michael about school pictures and explained “It’s hard to smile on command.” He agreed and noted to really smile “you need to smile with your eyes.” So wise. 
• Food for thought: Have you ever hated something you were really good at?
• Can I blame my problems on Nan?

Rosa Penis

In another age, my mother probably would have been a computer engineer. She is the only one I know, period, who can program her DVR like its slicing room temperature butter. Before the DVR, she was a wiz at recording programs when no one I knew could figure out the goddamned  VCR.  She is amazing. Doug says it’s because it’s important to her. But if you know anyone who is 82 and can figure this out, you let me know.  This is a minor miracle and goes in the who’d a thunk it category.

 

She certainly wasn’t technical in my eyes growing up, although gourmet cooking and sewing do take some technical skills. She always seemed to know exactly how many yards of fabric to buy per window for curtains. He mathematical / geometry skills are apparently in there still.

 

We don’t even have a DVR but when we get one I can call Mom for technical assistance.

 

In addition to her DVR prowess, my mother has become very adept at butchering names. She now calls Trader Joe’s, Trader Vic’s. She’s not sure why. She calls her new favorite restaurant Chinchilla’s but it’s actually named Cucina Twist. When I ask her why someone would name a restaurant after a rodent, she isn’t fazed. It’s all perfectly logical.  She calls her helper’s new grandson RO RO – that’s what I’m calling him, she says by way of explanation. His name is Rowan, I think. She also started calling her sister’s dog Rosa, Rosapina. 

 

Oh this brought up a funny story. You see when I was all of 12; my mother had a cleaning woman named Rosapina. She lived next door with a Peruvian family, the Chang’s, as their housekeeper. Well, I thought her name was hilarious and started calling her Rosa Penis. One of the Chang boys must have told her I was calling her this and she refused to come to work for my mother. Somehow, in time, my mother smoothed this over and I remember well the earful I got from my mother. At the time, this wasn’t funny at all. Looking back, its frickin’ hilarious. And that name has resurfaced as the incorrect name of my aunt’s dog.

 

Rosa Penis. Say it out loud. It will make you smile.