Jane and I got to figuring that neither one of us have walked much more than the length of the house or the circuit of the garden path since before last November. Except one foray when we visited Patty, and may have walked 2 city blocks, but were pretty done in. The frozen-up joints and tendons just haven’t cooperated. We’ve moved about, but it’s entailed limping, and at times it’s been so bad I’ve had to stand on one foot and hold to counters to fix dinner. Jane’s been as bad.
Finally, however, once-weekly PT has made a breakthrough, and the first cruise made a breakthrough—the simple matter of setting us to do something we so badly wanted to do, on a moving boat, and with food and drink involved. The next PT went really well. Then we got back on the boat, and I got brave enough to tackle the super-tall stairs with two drinks in hand, not using the rail. Made it. Jane met me at the top and took one, which so upset muscle tension that I went ‘twitch!’ and slopped a little of the drink I was still holding, but otherwise I made it. And did it several times more for food, using the rail this time. I still don’t ‘stand’ well. I had to give up until the line thinned down. Standing, lifelong, has been something difficult for me; but hey, I got through a 15 person line for the food. And got up on deck again.
So how do we maintain this? Walking the block. It’s a short block. About half-sized. But it’s uphill. Tried it yesterday and both of us were panting and I had broken a sweat, but both feet were working, both legs’ muscles were remembering what to do. We did it again today and were not panting, and did not break a sweat. That fast, something better. So there!
We’ve resolved to keep at it.The weather may be turning, and I think I’m going to order us a couple of umbrellas, but I want to keep at this until we can walk to the shopping district again. Which we used to do.
Walking is very good for you. Keep it up! I am now up to 2 miles per day. I have lost weight and feel much better. That first day walking was horrible. My legs ached all night after that. I just walked around the block and it killed me. Keep it up though. It’s worth it.
Totally agree, walking is the best!
I’m so glad my feet have gotten enough better at last that I can start walking to work again a few days a week, instead of taking the bike.
Yesterday was the first time in nearly five years that I did so, and it was a really nice start-of-autumn sunny day; good to get the habit formed again before the rain comes.
It went well, no extra pain today, so I’ll do it again tomorrow.
It’s only 3/4 mile, so a mile and a half round trip (plus the usual walking in the building). It may not be very far, but before the bonespurs in my heels it was enough to notice my physical condition improving, and to lose a pound per month.
(Dealing with a very bratty cat today. Heh.)
Not getting out and around has made a difference for me; so has desk-sitting. Squatting on my haunches to do things like clean or sort through boxes or get stuff from low cabinaets is no longer so easy. I can tell I’m not walking and exercising as much, and need this.
I had to change cat litter, as the Amazon delivery was never shipped at the start of this month, and had missed once before. The new pail is the regular weight, twice the light weight brand. (17lb. versus 35lb.) Whew, I am not used to lifting and carrying 35lb. weights anymore. This was _very_ annoying. That should not be such a problem.
I am going to need to make time for some exercise to keep a basic level of fitness and get back to where I should be, used to be. — I’m not the strongest guy around, never have been, but walking was never a problem, and should not be, and I should be able to handle well more than 35 pounds without noticing it.
My beard is at least much lighter blond, if not going, er…gold, platinum, silver? Man, my ego is not ready for this. But yeah, my beard is no longer dark blond. I am middle-aged and not ready for that to be so, but it is, I am. :-/ Oh well.
(Kitty, do thou please be quiet, Tais-toi. — He wants outside! Outside! Meow-meow-meow! … Adolescent kitty, still mostly stray and not yet used to this inside stuff. Driving me nutty with his meowing. Kitty-boy is very on about this.)
CJ, I wonder if you and Jane might also need a stair-climbing exercise, since that seemed to help you both quite a bit. Is there somewhere nearby where you can do some moderate stair-climbing, perhaps with a sightseeing goal, a scenic view?
(Lord love him, that is one mouthy and persistent little feline.)
It’s rained briefly twice today. Even if I’d had things outside to get more sun to dry them, they would’ve been drenched. The mattress pads are still wet from washing, so probably I’m in my sleeping bag tonight. :-/ — Waterproof (kitty-proof!) mattress pad and a drop cloth and tarp are on order and should arrive in a day or two.
Gotta get my friends galvanized to get the cats and me to the vet for Curry’s and Goober’s checkups, booster shots, and any tests needed, plus to schedule neutering for Curry, before that kicks in too much or becomes a habit. This will be the 4th attempted appointment whenever it happens.
I was going to say I need a man Friday. Then I looked at that and, hahaha! OK, maybe not specifically Friday, but in general…. Ahem. Yes, at least in writing and in my subconscious, I am OK to be more outrageous / outspoken. There was a time, including recently, when I could not have typed that out and let it stand, or let myself laugh with others about that. And, er, even now, I’m shy of letting it stay there, but I am trying to have a little fun with the idea.
Ahem, anyway, aside from wishing for Mr. Right, I wish I had reliable transportation and friends locally.
Just as long as we do get the new kitty (Curry) to his first vet appointment, and get Gober in for his checkup. Oh, kitty….
The perimeter of the apartment complex, or back and forth, is a pretty good distance. I may try walking that. — But I get turned around too easily, and the first few tries may be “interesting” in getting back to my own door in a short amount of time. :-/ But that is another good reason to try it, to get that mental map going.
My lease is up for renewal in June. By December, I need a home to renovate and rent-to-own, and I need more income to keep either that or staying in this apt. past June a more viable thing, rather than eating further into, or depleting my savings. Just very frustrated overall.
Yippee! Let’s hear it for persistence and wanting to do something very much! I regularly walk about a mile from home to the subway station and train that takes me into work in Boston each day… and then a mile home. Not having my driver’s license (although I do have a spouse who will pick me up if it’s raining, etc.) has kept me walking a lot… and hauling lots of stuff/weight in my backpack.
Happy to hear you are both out and about. Gardening and householding require a different set of muscles than leaving the homestead. I’m back on the treadmill for 30 minutes a weekday, plus whatever walking on the job. I don’t normally sit while teaching classes, have 2 dogs to supervise in the yard, and of course hubby believes the week isn’t complete without walking the entire SuperWalmart AND the entire Sam’s Club.
I’m trying to gear up for later this year; my 83 YO MIL still heats her home with wood, and we’ll all be meeting up to cut and split a few trees. She’s burning wood from 2 years ago this year, and has last year’s cutting aging.
Good on your MiL, still spry and looking after herself.
I have been hooked into a new computer game, called Naval Action. I find it very relaxing, because a. you have the choice of whether you want to engage in PvP or exclusively PvE by which server you are on, and b. the graphics are quite lovely, and spending time sailing about I find meditative, watching the waves go by. Unfortunately, this also means I spend more time on my duff than I should. Since my latest bout with back pain early this year, I’ve been trying to be more cognizant of posture and how I lift things, but I also need to do something to exercise. The poison of choice is still the exercise bike, but I also try to get out and garden. I discovered a self-seeded guava in my hedge; maybe I can coax it to bear.
BCS, it sounds like Curry is trying out for the Beat Poets’ Society and is looking for the Poetry Corner. Maybe you should have called him Kerouac?
Actually, instead of “Thinking Human,” our species ought to be named “Walking Human” — Walking was what we evolved to do. It reshaped our whole skeleton. Walking is best if it’s not done alone. Walking with someone, walking and talking, is so much better exercise than just walking. I should walk more. (I should do a lot of things.) I think I’ll go walk all over Wal-Mart and get some groceries.
Exactly so, well said! It’s said, “A wolf eats with his feet.” They are “coursers”, running to exhaustion, outlasting, their prey. That’s as opposed to cats, short bursts of speed but no stamina. Humans are like wolves! The San of the Kalahari, the most ancient of our existing human lines, hunt like that.
See this, by David Attenborough & BBC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=826HMLoiE_o
Fall in Spokane being what it is, I bought us two very sober-looking black umbrellas. The underside, however, is very splashy astronomic print.
Yesterday, however, the doc worked on the upper leg muscle that’s been perpetually hard as a rock, never relaxing as I walk; and OMG, the pain. The muscle attachment area swelled up last night to the size of a coconut, and ice and heat is in order. Sleeping on it was not easy. On the other hand, this morning swelling is greatly reduced, and it didn’t bruise—-yet. I’ve got heat on it.
Seishi knows he’s in my bad books. He managed to throw up right beside my pillow while I was sleeping, then began campaigning to wake me up and want the bedroom door open. Oh, thank you, Sei! I managed to strip the bed before it got to the mattress, but what a lovely wakeup on a morning when I just wanted to sleep.
I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better.
As for the Pet Mess, we recently had to put down a dog that had loose bowels and couldn’t spend the night in the house without messing all over the carpets. We had him sleep in the utility room that had access to the outside. But this poor dog had a stroke and then a bloody nose that wouldn’t stop. We nursed him through it all until was too old and week to stand. It was a sad day when I took him to the Rainbow Bridge. But, he’s standing guard there with the other members of the Ghost Pack.
I recently bought an off-brand cat food (dry) from Walmart; I thought it would do short term for the outside cats. Note to self and others: Don’t bother with Twin Pets dry cat food. The outside cats pulled up their nose at it, and even the mynahs, who normally gobble anything the Three Stooges abandon, haven’t done their usual raids.
Poor old fellow, indeed.
CJ, I’m sorry you had that mess this morning.
Spence, oh, gosh, I’m sorry. it’s so rough, but it is a kindness to them when they are that unwell. “Standing guard with the Ghost Pack,” I like that. I am reminded of the old mama dog I grew up with, my mom’s dog.
——
I will be treating the mattress again. The spot Curry did in still has a lingering smell. Ick. I applied, liberally, baking soda last night, which may help some. I expect to have to put up with this, so I’ll keep working on it. — I intend to check on the price for a sofa-bed, but it’s likely too pricey for me now. A futon is likely the answer. A new mattress is likely not in the offing, unless things greatly improve.
Flash flood heavy rain all day today. It’s been as dark as night a couple of times, fairly dark all day long. The Weather Channel / National Weather Service Emergency Alert has been nanny nagging me every hour all day. So I have done a little around the apartment. Tiny progress, but progress.
I’d put in two calls, but haven’t heard back on either yet, and I will be calling tomorrow to the vet as well as other local places to ask if they cn take Curry. — He has been OK today, only fussing with or else trying to play with Goober once this morning, right when the storm hit.
I am finding that I don’t want Goober to be banned from the bedroom permanently, and having the cat(s) sleep with me is one of the things I like best. It’s comforting for him or them and for me. The mattress may be the deciding factor in whether I keep Curry. I am thinking he needs to be a barn cat. If it’s possible he can be trained out of his behavior problems, that’s good. I had another nearly sleepless night, maybe four hours of sleep. He has a sweet side and some good behavior traits, partly socialized. But it’s been over 4 weeks now and he’s still doing things. He and Goober are sort of getting along and sort of not. I don’ want to give him up but I am leaning towards the idea that is the best solution to give him a home where he can be free.
I can see also, Goober needs me to himself, or else he needs an extra mild buddy who won’t dismay or bother him, due to his personality and that he’s aging. He needs time with me too. A shy kitten or teen cat or adult cat, someone mild-mannered enough to get along with him, is what he would need.
I am still trying to determine if this is really what is best or if Curry cn somehow stay. If we can resolve the loose stool and ig we could reliably train him out of the bad behavior, , he could stay. I like his good points. I see potential there. But I want a good buddy for Goober, if he’s going to be here; I don’t want Goober banned from my room for the rest of his life; and I want Goober at least, and preferably any other cat, to get to sleep with me and to be allowed in the bedroom.
Man…the rain. — So things are still ongoing. More news when I have some.
Have been vaguely watching the progress of Imelda; reports are saying the flooding is even worse than with Harvey. BCS, how are you doing? Temporary fix for smelly mattress: flip it over after the heaviest anti-stench treatment you can apply.
Vinegar for urine; WASHING soda for feces, you poor flooded man!
This is what I get for not checking the local weather every day during hurricane season. — But in my case, this time, it was a mild lesson.
I’m OK and people in my apartment complex are OK. I haven’t been outside, but water has stayed mostl drained off and we’ve only had a couple of power flickers and spotty internet. Compared to what it could be, oh, this is fine right here.
Other folks all from west of Houston though most of Louisiana are experiencing heavy flash flooding. Earlier today, anywhere from 5 to 9 inches of rain per hour in some areas.
I’m good, but if power went out or there was a major emergency, I need to get groceries. I am good on many canned items, but no milk, bread, and a few other necessities.
Flash flood watches / warnings are in effect all across the area from Corpus Christi to most of Louisiana. Chance of rain is less for tomorrow for Houston and some parts of the coverage area. (ABC news had better local web coverage via YouTube. CBS News local and national had so-so coverage.) So I’m staying here and not ordering groceries delivered until likely Monday. (Krogers will deliver even Saturdays and Sundays, so we’ll see.)
So I personally am OK but thousands / millions of others throughout the coastal area are not. The worst hit, the direct path of the tropical storm, was a bit east of Houston, closer to Beaumont (and therefore Port Arthur).
Tommie and others in Louisiana, I hope y’all are doing OK too. Good to hear from you.
So this also means Curry is staying a few more days. — I am leaning hard toward, he wants and needs to be a barn cat / rural cat, or he needs better / heavier training than I’ve been able to give him so far. I still think he has good potential and is mostly sweet, but man, those bad habits / misbehavior are still there, and he surely needs medical treatment. — Tonight, he spent time meowing to be let outside! (No, kitty, too wet out there, are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind?) He spent half his time basking in attention with me, with occasional grabby behavior (stay here and pet me, or play with me, or I’m annoyed for some reason because of where/how you touched me) and a little time trying to play with or pester Goober, who wasn’t having it. (You young upstart, I’m an elder kitty. Keep your claws in like the hewmon says, and quit batting at my tail.) LOL, poor long-suffering Goober. Though Curry was not bad about this like he was once today at the height of the storm, which I think was “I’m nervous but excited and I need to play. Or maybe it’s your fault we’ve got a storm!” seemed to be the idea in Curry’s head. I can read him OK most of the time, too, but that’s lots of cat experience behind that. The other half of the time, Curry gazed out the window, fascinated at the evening goings-on and wishing he was out there in it. (Silly cat, you do not want out in stormy weather like this.) So…leaning toward “barn cat” but darn it, I still wish he could be here, and I’m having trouble, feeling like I’m letting him down if I do that, even though that may be what’s best for him to be truly happy and free. Little guy, if you could show me reliably you could change your behavior reliably, trustworthily, and stay. But my impression is…dang it, I’m going to be treating that mattress for days, and that was too many times too often. He is banned from the bedroom. I don’t want Goober banned; he’s a good cat and hasn’t done anything wrong. — The mattress is better, but yeah, it’s getting treated again in the morning. (I do have cleaning vinegar, thankfully, and Nature’s Miracle spray and Lysol spray, but no Febreze yet.)
Looks like it will be Monday before I can get something done for Curry. Going to call the vet and a couple of other places and try calling two others again.
All in all, doing OK. — But this tells me to check my emergency travel gym bag and do some prep, plus inventory for any supplies (pantry) I need on hand.
Something’s up with my phone, not wanting to backup or install the new OS. It’s refusing everything and some apps, including my Contacts list, are down, unavailable. Not due to the storm, it says its storage is full, but won’t let me backup or delete, short of resetting it entirely. — So when things calm down, looks like I’ll have a trip to get it seen to, fixed. Sigh. — I am thinking of getting a cheap alternative backup phone, but no idea what to do there.
The national weather says there are a record 6 more tropical storms brewing in the Gulf and Atlantic. Whew.
We’ve got a reprieve, so flood waters get a little time to recede overnight, maybe, here.
Take care, y’all. Looks like I’ll be fine. Just hope others are OK soon.
When you fall on your head, do you land on your feet?
Are you tense when you sense there’s a storm in the air?
Can you find your way blind when you’re lost in the street?
Do you know how to go to the Heaviside Layer?
Check out Google Fi, which should be under $35/month including phone but without using any–or much–data. Fi uses Sprint, T-Mobile, U.S. Cellular, and WiFi, whichever has the best signal. This link will give you a $20 credit after a month on Fi: https://g.co/fi/r/T5133P Fi also has unlimited plans, but they’re $70+taxes+phone, so about $80-85/mo, about the same as conventional plans. You can spend more if you get a Pixel phone, but the Motorola phones let you just plug in an industry standard memory card if you need more memory. Physical headset jack, and USB-C (reversible oval) charge/interface jack. I would order a case at the same time as the phone.
Current phone: delete voicemails? Uninstall some apps?
Anent Uber, I used it for a while a couple years ago. I found it best to check availability just before actually going; I passed at times when prices were raised. After that I’d walk to where I wanted to be picked up, then summon the Uber. I do not think they will update your location if you move. The usual wait was only 5 minutes. You can turn data off once you’re in the Uber. If you get confident it works this way in your area, then you can just summon the Uber with as much pad as you feel comfortable with instead of reserving a time.
Hah, it’s not letting me delete those. I’d deleted Apple’s Music app to get rid of songs on my phone earlier. I have turned off (I think, hope) auto downloads of music, videos, etc. — So it’s going in for a checkup when I can do so.
Walt, thanks for the Google Fi link, I will check that out. — Also, I might be eligible now for an upgrade of my phone on my existing plan. I think my current phone is 32GB, though, which seems more than plenty for me, but I may increase if the cost is not significantly more. I’ll find out.
Hah, I had to look up those lyrics: Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats, sung by Jellico for the Cats musical. I may even have the song, though it hasn’t played recently.
Uber — I’d be amazed if Uber or Yellow arrived. :-/ From past experience, Yellow can be up to 30min past when it was supposed to arrive, and I twice had them ask me if the location where I’d scheduled existed, and could I verify the address. Well, you know, I’m standing here, there are hundreds of people around, and the store and others around it had been there since before we had moved there when I was a junior in high school so…. I did not put it to the Yellow operator that way, either time, but heh, it did make me wonder about their system. (That was before I had found a regular driver, years back, but it shows how out of touch their system can be.)
Does your vet know the problems you’re having with getting transportation? Mayhap they can suggest something more reliable.
The vet I’ve been trying to get to is a new vet for me; my old vet retired. The new vet is a clinic, three vets plus their assistants / staffers. I’d asked about a ride, but got back that they might could, except that week, as the previous week, half their people were out and the young lady answering the phone was not usually the receptionist. So it might be an option, but I doubt it. From their website, two of the vets are men and one is a woman, and it looks like ALL (nearly all?) the staffers are women. Gee, I know guys like cats and dogs too, what’s the deal? Heh.
But…going to talk to my friends tomorrow, plus call and talk to the vet. Gotta solve the transportation issue so Curry and Goober can get their appointment.
Curry again wants out, out, outside. Rain? Pshaw, he says. Flooding? Pshaw, he says. Yeah, kitty, you would think otherwise if you actually got out there when it was raining like earlier. No, kitty, not doing it, sorry.
He continues showing a mix of good social behavior and not-so-good to, ow, hey, quit that, behavior. And it’s been about half a week or more since, ah, he christened the bed both ways. (But didn’t spit up.) — And so both are banned for the time being.
I am leaning heavily towards giving him away, recommending he get a barn cat home or some heavy-duty foster home and socialization training, heavy on the, “not on the bed, I sleep there, you sleep there, do not try to punish me by doing that, ’cause no human will put up with that.) — But dan g it, I wish I could keep him. I like him. He likes me. He and Goober are more or less getting along. (Sometimes fine, other times, not.)
One milestone, though: with the carriers open and sitting in the living room, aha! Not only Curry, but even Goober, who didn’t like the carrier, nosiree, they have both decided the carrier interior and top are nice enough places to shelter or sleep. Good job, guys. Curry was already fine with this, which is odd to me. Goober gettin in the carrier and seeming happy about it, wow, big step, buddy. I was glad to see that.
Laundry — I wish I’d bought the clothes racks long ago. I’ve made good progress. There is an end in sight to the backlog. I will then see how much I’m going through in a month, and I expect I can give some clothes away. — The dryer is likely going to stay unused and I’m getting rid of that dryer, but keeping the washer, of course. — If and when I move, I’ll get a dryer, or if (gasp) the complex repairs the dryer vent issue. But otherwise, oh, it’s the clothes racks, and once I’m caught up, I expect that will be an easy solution for just one person and one or two cats.
If I do wind up giving away Curry, then if I adopt a new cat, he or she needs to get along with Goober and be good about the bed. This may mean a cat who is just as non-assertive or nearly so, as Goober. Or at least a very mild-mannered, very easygoing cat, very friendly. This may mean a meet-and-greet with Goober to see if they could get along. But I am not so immediately inclined to do this. I would like to include a second cat as a companion for Goober and me, but maybe he needs me all to himself. I just think he needs a feline buddy. Cats need cats too. I could give a cat a good home if we can get along. So it’s still to be decided.
I still wish Curry could stay. Maybe there’s a way to work it out and trust him, but I just don’t see it. If the vet thinks fostering Curry for a while could resolve it, with training, then maybe this is still doable. I want Curry to be happy instead of always pining for the outside, and I want to be able to trust him if and when the bedroom is open. Banning Goober from the bedroom too, sleeping alone while they are in the living room, is not how I want to live, and not what I want for the rest of Goober’s life. That is very unfair to him, a good, well behaved cat. (Oh, he isn’t perfect, but he knows not to pee or poop on the bed. He had the one incident his first night, as a kitten, but he has been good ever since. Yes, he has spit up before, on the bedspread or sheets, but that has been fixable.)
So…dang it, I think I know what my decision must be, but I don’t like it. I wanted Curry here and happy. He has good potential. But he needs to learn good behavior, and so far, that hasn’t happened. He’s good about what he’s good about, and feral about other things. :-/
— The bedroom smells like a salad or fish and chips. — I am out of salad and fish and have only tater tots in the freezer, no fries. These are going on the grocery list.
The vinegar is at least providing a more palatable smell, haha. Hoping ti will do the trick, and then I’ll flip the mattress, likely Sunday.
Y’all kitties are high maintenance, you know that? — I’m aggravated, but only that. The situation with Smokey did teach me a few lessons too, and was uncharacteristic of me, but I did it. Won’t do Curry that way. He will get a good home somewhere if I give him away, which is likely. I am trying to tell myself not to feel guilty, that he will be happier if he can be outside and free, even though we like each other. — Yes, I am having a very hard time letting go. I’d made a commitment and put my heart into it. But maybe Curry’s needs outweigh my feelings or wishes in the matter. He deserves to have a happy, good life, and if being inside is not going to give him that, then I shouldn’t be selfish and demand that. If he also is too feral to learn to change his behavior then he needs a better environment where he can be happy. He can be sweet, loving, appreciative. I wish I could get through to him and get him to improve.
At least we can get him vet care and get him relocated. But I wish there could be a better chance for him to stay here. Having a hard time with this still. :-/
Too magical not to share: https://twistedsifter.com/videos/yosemite-rainbow-waterfall-video/
C. J., the white cat (Pu) that I had for 15+ years routinely came unfed pretty much at the drop of a hairball, and in self defence, I put a waterproof topsheet on my mattress because he was my wingman, and his place was at my side, especially in sleep. Amazon has one I swear by that can be washed and tumble-dried (low), and that is quite reasonably priced. (It’s proof against other types of bodily fluids, too, human and feline.)
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00A2G9VFM/ref=ppx_yo_dt_b_search_asin_title?ie=UTF8&psc=1
I miss having kitties so much, but won’t be having any for the forseeable future. My mom turns 95 on Monday, and while she is active, alert, and is in very good shape for her age, that situation is subject to change without notice, and until it comes to its inevitable conclusion, I have to be able to drop everything for large chunks of time to be there for her.
WOL, thanks, I am so getting that linked mattress protector. I’d ordered a waterproof mattress pad, but still, oh, yeah, ordering the one you recommended.
WOL, also — Advice, and your mileage may vary. If you get a cat used to a carrier as a safe haven, a friendly, cozy place to sleep, and if you can get them used to traveling as a positive thing, then cats can do fine with traveling to and fro.
Goober and later Smokey went back and forth with me regularly between my house and my grandmother’s house while I was taking care of her. Neither liked this, because I didn’t get them accustomed to the carrier as a good place, and because they didn’t like going by car to someplace they didn’t want to go (the vet, or a small bedroom where they had to stay cooped up). But if they had been better acclimated, this would have been OK. They got bored and would want out, but they did OK. — I learned I had to put a catch on that bedroom door to keep them in, because Goober learned how to open the door by pushing or pulling on it, and/or by fiddling with the knob. Smart, determined cat. Heh.
I did this often with them. I got Goober in 2006 and Smokey in 2010, so they had 5 and 1 years respectively of that travel.
Yes, it could be at a moment’s notice, or sometimes they’d stay at my house overnight or two days, if it was less. Later, I went back and forth every day or stayed at my grandmother’s house for multiple days.
So, in my experience, if you want/need a feline companion, do so, and put in a little time to get him/her used to a carrier and some travel as positive things; and then go ahead with your life. You can have a cat with you, back and forth, if caring for your mother requires you to stay with her or have her stay with you for any short-term or long-term periods. — And you and she are so fortunate that she is still mentally and physically sharp at 95. Thank goodness. (My grandmother was already 92 when my dad, her son-in-law, passed away. She had been almost 90 when my mom, her daughter, passed away. She started having health problems around then and after.)
Other advice: Do not put all the load for care on yourself when that becomes necessary. Get help from a caregiver and keep on until you find a good one. It can be _very_ tough to deal with an independent-minded, strong-willed old woman, your mother or in my case, my grandmother. But — you have a big advantage: Talk to her now, beforehand, and the two of you plan out together what she wants done when she can no longer adequately take care of herself. Please note the two most difficult things to face for her may be the need to move in with you or somewhere else and thereby selling her home, and the loss of driving her car and its sale. But I talked to senior friends who said that moving into an assisted living apartment / center was a smart move for them while they were still able to care for themselves, before they got to where they couldn’t. My grandmother was smart enough to realize when she needed to sell her car, after a few problems and one or two accidents; one while my dad was still here. She later didn’t remember she had done so, but was OK with getting rides with friends and with me via cab. She felt good about that but wished she could drive herself, and no longer realized she couldn’t. (Thank heavens she did not try to, though. Some do.)
About staying in one’s own home: Senior friends said they planned ahead, either to move in with friends or family, or into assisted living apartments, where there were other seniors and activities and meals in a common dining room downstairs, with music and games for those who were still active. This means your mom and you selling her home to pay for the cost of whatever she wants to do, either that route or others, or to live with you and save up the money toward care needs, which can be huge, even if you r mom is lucky to have good insurance and Medicare coverage.
If you two can bear to live together, then get her to move in with you. But if she doesn’t want to do this or it’s too stressful, a small apartment in assisted living is the better alternative. — And something others won’t say: You will face tremendous emotional and physical demands on yourself in caring for her, whatever you do. But if she moves in with you, a factor to consider is that afterward, you may want to move to a new home or apartment yourself, so you aren’t surrounded by memories. Even when you have a very good relationship, as my grandmother and I did, it will be terribly wiring on you both. My grandmother’s personality and habits changed as her condition regressed. I was her favorite grandson, the only one who stayed and visited. (She had step-grandkids from my (step) granddad; I was her biological grandson and I was raised going back and forth to see them each week, at least for church for all of us, and often to stay over, and this continued when I was well into adulthood. She was special.) But hey, I was, even at 34 after my mom and dad were gone, her grandson, and later, this seemed much, much younger to her than it had then. (In her mind, I was just a kid by then, basically, even though I was a full adult into my late 30’s and early 40’s. I had to remind her of this at times, comparing with my parents’ lives and hers at that age.) Plus, my grandmother had good reasons not to trust “a man,” since her first husband, my mom’s dad, had left her when my mom was 15, for another woman, and my step-granddad had begun with some problems he later mostly outgrew out of maturing and affection for her commitment to him. But her commitment to him nearly reached its breaking point before then, before I was born. Ah, a couple of her friends unwittingly reinforced this, so…despite how much my grandmother loved and trusted me, at her core, she had this stubborn self-reliance which outweighed me being so much younger, her grandson, and a man, a male. I understood that, but oh, it could be rough. — But she also stubbornly went against the advice of everyone else, best friends, minister, lawyer, and her siblings, so, y’know, I was not alone in this regard. Meaning, everyone tried to get her to let us sell her home and to move in with me. She resolutely would not. “I don’t want to interfere with your life,” she’d say. Er, Grandmother, I’m over here every day of the week and staying two or three (or every) night of the week. Whether you are interfering is beside the point. I’m helping you, I love you. (I went through various ways of trying to get through to her that this wasn’t interfering with my life, or that, yes, it was, but it was my choice to care for her and be with her, that I couldn’t _not_ do this. — She wanted me to be able to go out, live my life, maybe date and find a girl and get married…. I was already older than my dad had been when he and my mom got married. And I don’t think my grandmother ever really understood what being gay was, in much of any way. If she ever realized I was, this never, ever showed up, but not in a bad way either. (There had been a lesbian couple at our church for a while. She knew they were “best friends” and living together, but she didn’t seem to realize it was more than that. Or she herself was OK with a committed, loving relationship, as opposed to what she would have thought a sexual relationship between two people of the same sex was otherwise.) So my grandmother, right up until the end, hoped I’d meet a nice girl and marry and have kids. (Grandmother, I’m over 40, I said.)
Er, personal experience aside, my point is, it can be very tough for your mom (and you) to prepare ahead for the realities of her future care needs. Sure, she’s independent and wants to stay that way. Good, great! Be active and smart, oh, I am so for that. But there willl come a time when she has to have help to do things, sometimes even the most basic things, such as if she breaks a bone, has other health problems along the way, or whatever may occur once she gets older and can no longer fully take care of herself on her own…or at all. (A church friend’s mother was past 95 and her health gradually diminished, but for a long while, she needed her daughter’s and family members’ care, until she got to where she was mostly sleeping through the days and nights, around or over 100.)
Another friend had to take his mom’s car keys away and sell the car, to keep her from driving without safety or knowing quite where she was going or how to get back home. This was very rough on them.
My pint being, oh, plan ahead, so it is your mom’s informed, although difficult decision, and so she is mentally prepared before her care needs are so great that you or someone else has to make these decisions for her.
I delayed too much and thought I could do it myself. I didn’t know just how stubborn my grandmother would be about these things or how long and difficult it would be. I should have taken my (and her) attorney’s advice and set up a fund for her care, with a trustee, rather than doing this all myself. She should have agreed to sell her home and move into assisted living or move in with me. Either would have been better and would have saved us money. I was inexperienced, made mistakes of various kinds, including worried oversupply / hoarding of some things at times, because I was so stressed out. If I had planned better and had care for her earlier, rather than what I did, I could have been working, getting outside income, and had a life, besides taking care of her, and I would not have been sometimes the “bad guy” because I had to put my foot down on some things, big or small, in her daily care. (She got to where she couldn’t remember things, but wasn’t aware she couldn’t remember and couldn’t do those things for herself anymore. Such as pay bills, or, later, personal care.) Even so, this would have eaten up our funds eventually, no matter what. On that: even with good insurance and Medicare, the costs of hiring a caregiver for a few hours a day, or later for 8 to 12 hours a day, every day, plus other costs not covered by insurance, can be really huge. Typically, a senior must sell their home to fund long-term medical care or living in hospice or else assisted living. This is typically done up front, with the goal of having it taken care of for the future. This is also shocking to the senior and their loved ones. Oh, yeah, very much so. But, uh, eventually, I was spending money from her savings and then from mine, to the tune of several thousand a month. Yes, thousands. What my parents had worked for to help fund my life for years, went into doing so for her for years, along with her savings.
Note too, one option is a “reverse mortgage” on her home. When the time comes that you and she need financial help to care for her (or you), you can get a reverse mortgage on her home. This pays out money from the home back to a fund (an account) for her care, either a separate account, and/or managed by a trustee, or by yourself. It can be her account if you can co-sign on it, but advice, set up a separate account instead of co-signing on hers. Do set up to co-sign on hers for later, or else to close out her account later. You don’t want the money for a reverse mortgage going into your account, too messy. (We had it going into her checking and savings. Her neighbor helped her set this up before I was fully involved in the daily care, back when she and I were still telling ourselves we were trying to be independent.) This can be a huge boon to her care needs or her everyday life before she needs much medical care. But it has to be for emergencies or required care, of course. At the end of the reverse mortgage there can be options, such as, she can continue to stay, as long as she is not absent from the premises for over 6 weeks at a time. At the end of the term, she needs to move out, live elsewhere, and either the home then reverts to the mortgage company or can be sold otherwise, and thus resolved. You have the option to buy back the home, if you can pay the price of the home via taking out your own mortgage on it, or other investment purposes, but most people, of course, cannot then do that, and so the mortgage company generally gets the home and sells it. As with other situations, she and all her things must be off the premises and it must be ready for sale. But — the big idea is, this can feed a thousand or two bucks into a fund toward her care needs, per month, or lump sums per quarter or 6 months or annually. Or just sell the home to begin with and have that into a fund to draw upon. — It helped her for a few years. It ran out. By then, I paid entirely for her care.
Also: Do not really depend on the federal or state government for help, but before she is in real need, set things up with social security, Medicare and Medicaid, and know that you will later have to go in, with her in tow, to prove care needs and (ouch) whether she is still entallly competent or not, or physically not able to care for herself. (My grandmother reached the point where she was not, before there was any official status saying so. Proving it after would have been…a horrible mess, legally and for her and me, emotionally.)
Set up legal and medical power of attorney with yourself or some trusted third party (an attorney or a family member or trusted friend, someone who is entirely and absolutely above reproach or the temptation to do things just because they want to dip into the money, or because your mom really wants something. Your mom needs to give her legal consent, notarized and witnessed, for the legal and medical powers of attorney to be set up. — This advice and doing it were real helps. — But one care facility went right ahead and took my grandmother’s word and signature while I was otherwise occupied with herding her, her things, and two friends, and dealing with the facility’s staff, and I had to argue with them about it after my grandmother had signed documents she had no idea of. You’ll have to carry legal duplicates of the powers of attorney for when needed, once she is no longer able to c are for herself.
Everyone’s case is different, and I wish I had known better and handled some things differently. Once really into it, it became overwhelming, mentaller and physically exhausting.
WOL, my purpose is not to appall or scare or worry you or your mom. It is instead to say, that is one extreme you and she do not want yourselves to have to face. So talk with her and plan ahead. She’s still mentally sharp, so get her to talk to people. Her friends and their adult kids will likely have examples of what they have/have not done towards this, with good and bad stories of what to do or not do. An attorney, ministers, whoever else, her doctor, can offer good advice, as can a social worker. A financial advisor could help set things up for her eventual needs.
The whole idea is to plan ahead in order to reduce the hit to her and you, both in money and in emotional and physical terms. It means facing doing some things you and she won’t want to do, but need to face the possibiilties and plan for, in case they happen.
Ifr it is her decision, if she is in on this, then it can be her wishes, her best plan, to help you both to avoid the worst when she begins to need real care, and before you are in the middle of a big mess and tied up with it, mired in it emotionally and physically and financially.
Heck, let her see what I’ve written, if that would help. It is way, way better if she is involved in planning ahead for the two of you. (Or for a trustee or someone else.) This lets you both have breathing room and have some things in place before the need is immediate and urgent at some unforeseen time. These things never happen at any good time. It’s always some weird unexpected thing. — But from friends who planned ahead and had things ready, assisted living, powers of attorney, financial needs prepared as best they could, friends and family in place to help when that became needed, it was a blessing for them, and they had peace of mind and time to enjoy, before their care needs became necessary.
There are several things I wish I had done differently, but I was, by then, too overwhelmed, caught up in everything, too tired too, and too emotionally stressed.
Ah, and…you will likely have to march her and yourself down to social security to plan ahead for Medicare, Medicaid, etc., and to get things in place for when the financial needs become desperate. — I have never been so angry and affronted at any official clerk / admin, as when I had to try to deal with someone over the phone, after over 30 minutes waiting, giving hem her SSN and mine, saying what was needed, and then having them refuse and demand I bring her in, because, oh, maybe this 99+ year old woman did not really exist, and maybe I was trying to scam the federal government. I held my temper long enough to say, look, I just gave you her SSN and mine, you want to see her? Good, she’s been in the hospital over 3 days to a week. You can go see her there. She might be able to talk to you, but she won[‘t know who you are or what the date and time is, from five minutes to the next. Oh, I was angry. But managed to be mostly polite. But if I could have reached through that phone, I would have given that clerk or supervisor a piece of my mind, at least verbally, a talking-to, for refusing to help or believe me. I told her that with hat SSN, she could check on my records, my grandmother’s records, and bank accounts, and medical stays, and she’d discover my grandmother was in the hospital and unfit. … I was not happy, I was offended, I did understand the caution / skepticism, but I was being honest and really needed help, and there was no way then to bring her in for any reason, and if so, they should have been Abel to see she wasn’t competent at that point or at any time thereafter. Sigh.
I was also shocked. At that time, a person could not receive aid if they had any savings, investments, or social security check, or personal gifts from family and friends. which exceeded only $1200 per month. Her social security check counted into that, oh yes. Me helping her by paying her bills and expenses counted into that, yes too. She was supposed to be truly beyond all help, before the government would lift a finger, and this had to be proven about 6 months in advance of her getting any benefit either. — She never got Medicare or help beyond her social security check and Medicare benefits. (Not Medicare.) By then, I was too overwhelmed, I was paying for everything myself, and couldn’t get others to help, plus my records were, by then, a complete mess.
Months later, the limit was raised to $1500 per month. I don’t know what it is now, button will note that of late, our system has been criticized for becoming less helpful to anyone in need, elderly or handicapped, young mothers and fathers, children, legal or illegal immigrants, and so on. In other words — sign up for help early, have things ready and get help with that when you can and before it’s needed. — But ultimately, expect that the federal system will not do enough to truly help you if you are not so wealthy that you don’t need it anyway. If you are middle class or working class, you’re toast, for such help for your loved ones. (In my opinion.) But a little help is better than no help. It’s just that it is unlikely to materialize when it is actually needed most.
Uh, and to any health care or case workers, legal folks, or federal folks — That is my experience. I know very well that most medical people genuinely want to help, but are tied down by stupid, heartless insurance and legal and governmental policies which do not help the patient or caregivers or medical personnel to give care. I know many legal workers want to do what’s right. I know there are government volunteers and full-time staff who want to do what’s right. (Such as the folks who volunteer for the low-vision eye clinic, a coop between the U. of H. and the Lighthouse, a non-profit volunteer org.) I get this. I have seen some wonderful people who went out of their way to do what’s right and good. I have also seen people who did not belong in their jobs, so jaded, burnt out, cynical, and uncaring, that even when presented with real and obvious need, they would not do something to help, or would actively interfere. (I did complain about one nurse, for instance.)
Anyway, I’ve gotten off-track. WOL, if it would help to show your mom what I’ve written, do. She needs to understand and prepare beforehand, the two of you as a team, or whoever you and she want to help her when she needs that help. While she is still mentally capable of making good decisions for her life, and while you are not caught up in an emergency, trying to do what’s best for her while worried and scared — get things done.
I wish I had truly understood this. I wish my grandmother would have. She thought, like I did, it would be something we could take care of when the time came. She waned to live in her own home until they carried her out. Well, uh, she was in a care facility when that time came. My dad died at home in bed, after coming home from work and after refusing offers from his buddies at work to take him to the emergency room, and after telling me, no, he wasn’t going to the doctor, he just needed to seep and he’d feel better. (Baloney. I’d talked with his friends at work, who’d called me, and I’d talked with him when he got home.) My mom was in the hospital when it was her time to go. — So…well, so I have been through some things.
Senior friends who planned ahead and either moved themselves into assisted living apartments while still sharp and mostly healthy, or who moved in with family members, said they were happiest with their situations, their needs were planned for as best they could beforehand, for people they loved and trusted to take care of them, and for them to have a place to live, and finances, if possible to do so.
While your mom is still able to fax this, she and you need to do so. While she is mentally sharp and mostly healthy is a good time to do so. At 95, she needs to have plans in place. This gives her her best chances to enjoy life to the fullest, and to have things in place when she begins having health problems and needing care, help from friends.
I will be 54 in March. The next time I get that AARP letter, I need to look at that. In other words, I have some things to take care of for myself that I’ve been avoiding, and I need to get on the stick and handle those and face it. — For one, I’m almighty tired of living so alone and not having enough support locally from friends. I need that support every so often. — But there will come a time when I need things in place too. (My mom and dad were unusual in that they died sooner than most family members. So I could have either around 11 to 48 years, depending. Either is a long time. Living to 102, another 48 years, would be a very long time indeed.)
WOL, you and your mom are terrific, I’m sure. Please don’t let my long advice bother you and her too much. But hey, she’s 95, you’ve had a health issue and she has. I wish I’d taken good advice toward this after my folks were gone, to set up to help my grandmother, when I could’ve set aside money in savings for her future. I wish she had been wiser and taken that same advice given to her. We didn’t. It meant hardships. I might not be in quite the spot I have been for the years since she’s been gone, if we’d both taken the good advice we got. And I see I should take my own good advice and really resolve things I have needed to get done.
I still have some good chance to get some things done. I may or may not still have the chance to rent-to-own a home that’s low cost and has been renovated. — But I also need to weigh the idea of moving in with someone else, reducing down even further, way more than I want to, out of need. If I could have a good roommate, that would help. I need to find some info I’d misfiled, that is still somewhere here, so I can proceed with eye care, at least. So, things to do, to practice what I just preached.
WOL, I am sure your mom is terrific and you love her. You both deserve the best you two can provide for each other, so she and you have the best chances to enjoy life, and so when you both need it, there are things in place to help her and you.
This morning, I found a note taped to my door that the apartment complex will be doing inspections again, on the 19th and 20th. One will note that it is now 2:45pm on the 20th, and yesterday, there was flash flooding, and there has been rain today. To wit, so far, I’ve seen no one, and do not expect to. Last time, no inspection showed up. The time before, they were only in long enough to look, barely so, before leaving. I _asked_ if they needed to do a better look, because I thought there were probably issues to find, beyond my control, that might need maintenance. They said, no, they were just looking for obvious things like leaks, etc., current problems. Uh, OK…. So I am underwhelmed. Also, that note was not there on the 17th, so it must have been put there on the 18th, but I didn’t see it that day either. Which means, maybe it was put there yesterday, except…there were heavy rains, dark as night, all that day.
It’s been raining today, but not bad, and things appear to be OK around the complex. I am going to stay here, rather than get my mail from the box, in case someone actually comes by. I’ll get it tomorrow morning, and I expect there may be a slight chance someone might be by on Saturday. (OK, no, that’s dreaming the impossible.) Monday? I don’t know, but I don’t intend to hold off just to suit them. If I can get Curry and Goober seen to Monday or Tuesday, it’ll happen. My place is not in ideal shape, but it’s OK enough to pass that inspection or better.
I’m more baffled and amused by this than anything, but it means what they are actually doing are spot-checks at random, not every single apartment. It also means they are giving notice (or threatening) anyone / everyone, or specific apartments, with this, now monthly. Not cool, folks.
The dryer vent problem was never fixed, and I personally am of the mind that, I’ve asked them more than once, I singed a work order last time, in their office, a worker came by and tried to claim emptying my dryer’s lint catcher was the solution. I explained no, that was not the problem, there was a work order signed, which was why he was supposed to be here, to solve it. He said he’d put in a work order (!) to resolve it. No one came by. — So, at least until I get more upset, I figure it’s on them, and if it’s that way when I move out, hmm, too bad, it’s still their problem, not mine to pay for, because I did sign that and they didn’t follow up.
However, once I have the backlog of laundry air-dried via clothes racks, and have, along the way, also done more unboxing, reboxing, in preparation for an eventual hoped-for move, then I may resubmit the maintenance issue with a verbal and written note that they didn’t solve it before. And maybe it’ll get resolved. Or not. No, I’m not too happy nor do I expect much about it, by now.
I’m going on with things, working towards the ideal goal of getting to move into a rent-to-own renovated home. But I may need to move in with someone or have a roommate (at random, probably) move in with me, because my savings won’t last forever and font work or writing work are not going fast enough for me to think that will kick in soon enough. Maybe I can make enough progress it will before I’m bad off. Sigh.
So…apartment inspection? Sure, fine, do that. If someone shows up, I don’t expect anything, and I am ready to explain myself. Note that there are fewer boxes, some new things, and oh, two clothes racks in use and less laundry waiting to be done, since the last time anyone inspected. And the place is due to be vacuumed, mopped, and the carpets shampooed, but hey, that’s getting done. No, I wouldn’t mind at all if they fixed the gods-be dryer vent problem or, you know, actually had someone exterminate, which also never happened last time. Ahem. I’m even gutsy enough to say that out loud at this point.
OK, back to work. Laundry may be dry. I may get another load or two hung to dry before this evening. Whee. Grumble.
(Note, less rain here today, I think my apartment complex dodged the bullet about flooding or damage. But yes, an inspection of the whole complex is a good idea, actually, after a major storm. Come on and do it. I’m paying full rent for one person and two cats. I’m liable for that by contract, and I’m paying on time, just like I’m supposed to. I wish things were going better from their end, but they could be worse, admittedly. So OK, I can live with this.)
I am not above shaking my head and laughing to myself, and not above some heavy frustration about it either.
Meanwhile, chipping away at, I hope, a workable future. But dang it, it’s not happening fast enough.
I am sleeping in a fuzzy robe and under a fuzzy blanket on the bare mattress, and not letting either cat in there until I can get a new mattress pad—the other just would not come clean enough. I’ve ordered one that is proof against—um—problems. Meanwhile the two cats, deprived of a privilege, are growing antsy and trying hard to get in there.
CJ, I see the one WOL recommended is 100% waterproof, comes in whatever bed size you need, plus, there are pillow protectors for whichever pillow size you need. — I’m getting one, though I think I can do without the pillow protectors. I may get those later.
Hah, household vinegar + spray bottle + mattress and carpet, both sprayed like the Dickens. — Going to spray the mattress again, though, for good measure, now. — Expecting to sleep on the dang couch tonight.
I am resolved to get a futon, and am thinking of three listed. One appears good, but (dang it) apparently folds up and has no legs or base. It has very good reviews though. The other two are conventional and look good. And I’ve ordered a waterproof futon cover, because, cats, drinks and food, any guests, and again, cats. Heh. I’m likely to decide which futon tomorrow and order it. (Under $200, much cheaper than a sofa bed. Doable, it gets me a couch again that I can live with, or sleep on if need be. Current couch is…awful, just awful.) Looks like I could get either one before the end of the month. Just gotta get friends to move the current one the heck outta there.
@CJ Whatever you’re hiding in there must be really good, otherwise you’d share it with the cats.
For cleaning cat pee I have found that a combo of hydrogen peroxide and vinegar works best. Spray with peroxide and blot several times. With rugs you have to get all the way through the pile. I use paper towels or preferably sham-wows to blot. I them spray with vinegar. I use apple vinegar because it has a strong smell.
Lately I have been using a combo of lemon oil and hot pepper spray to keep the cats away from treated spots. I spray the rims of flower pots with this combo to keep the cats from getting into plants. I also use it outside to keep deer and others away from the garden.
Years ago I found that putting about a teaspoon of Lemon Lysol in the wash with my regular detergent got the odor of cat pee out of fabric. I saved a down quilt this way when I thought I would have to discard it
Our beloved Aloysius died of a brain tumor at the beginning of September. Since them we have been having pissing contests over who will be the leader of the pack, so I have been doing a lot of peed on laundry. It’s always sumthin’!
Aw, smart cat, I’m sorry to hear about Aloysius. He and the others have wished many of us happy birthday and other celebrations, over the years.
LOL, Tommie, that’s about how they think. 🙂
Had to play tag with the two felines this morning, wanting in the other bedroom, and Curry got Outside! when I stepped out to go to the mailbox, and again when I came back in. There was enough time while I set down the mail that he could have scampered away if he’d really wanted to. Instead, he wanted to sniff around, sit, and do whatever it is cats do in such situations. Heh. He was not pleased to be picked up and taken back Inside!, or out of the bedroom, but we avoided major incidents.
He is this odd mix of socialized, sweet, friendly little guy and some feral instincts, and oh, that desire to be Outside! is a big deal to him.
However, ah, he very much likes that this place serves regular meals, and except for one or two flavors, they both like it.
Poor little guy still has his digestive trouble. He seems fine otherwise, but I notice a “chuffing” when he really wants to smell something, and occasional hoarseness, and a need to drink to make up for dehydration. When I picked him up to take him back in, I don’t know if he was just unhappy, or if he has a tender spot around his lower belly. I can’t figure what’s going on with this lower g.i. issue, and hope it’s treatable / curable.
He wanted to bowl right over Goober, who’d gotten on the counter, in order to see what I might have to eat and what Goober might be getting. Darn little alpha, that was rude and unnecessary. (Goober’s sense of courtesy and propriety was quite offended. He went over to the window and couched with his back to us. Poor kitty.)
So Curry continues to be this mix of good and bad behavior, and things I can love and other things that keep making me think he needs an outdoor home, some better solution than this. And yet I have a soft spot for him and I feel torn in both directions.
The darn little imp had to follow me around this morning, and then sat on my foot to keep me there, in the kitchen, not really hungry (after they’d been fed) but just, “Hey, Damon, I’m here, aren’t I cute? I want some attention.” Which…darn it, kitty, is another point in his favor.
But after paying attention to them, I flipped the mattress and made the bed for the second time this week. :-/ This time, with a mattress protector. — Both of them are still banned from the bedroom. However, now that the bed is back in order (somewhat), I may bring Goober in for a look-see and visit.
I think I have resigned myself to giving Curry away, on the stipulation that he needs heavy socialization and training, and ideally, an outside life, such as a rural area, a farm, a barn, something, so he can be free and satisfy that craving to be Outside! and walk by himself. (However, he also has that friendly side, despite other inappropriate behavior.)
In the P.O. Box were his new tags. I’d bought a second kind to see if I liked them better, flush with the collar, not so dangling or heavy, maybe. He’s been wearing the dangle round tag with the pawprint, matching Goober’s tag. I intend to keep Curry’s tag if I give him away, which I’m expecting. :-/
If I had not invited him in last month, he would’ve been out in the storm with the other strays around the apartment. I hope they’re safe. At least I’ll have made sure Curry gets a chance at a good, longer life, if possible, instead of life as a stray. Just, darn it, I was hoping he’d have that life here as the third member of the team, a friend for Goober and for me.
I would only take on another kitty now if I could know he or she would be a good match for Goober and me. I think Goober has another year or two of good health, which would mean he’d be my longest-lived cat.
I want to be sure Curry gets treatment / cured for whatever he has going on, if possible.
Thanks for advice, @BCS. I’ve already been through kinda this thing with my dad. My fervent hope (and hers, I think) is that my mom will continue in her present state until about 2 seconds before something terminally catastrophic happens. It would be very unwise of me to move in with her. I have Asperger’s and she is a Virgo. There was no such thing as Asperger’s when I was born, and neither parent had any clue as to why I am the way I am, nor any insight into what I was going through growing up. All they knew was that I have always resolutely marched to the beat of a different drummer and can’t eever seem to get with the program. Still, I try to be there for her as best I can. My signature is on all her bank accounts so that I can step in and take care of bills and whatnot if necessary, and she relies on my medical knowledge and ability to cope with the healthcare system (and especially act as an interpreter — she has never been good with accents and we all know how many ESL doctors are out there.)
Good luck to you, WoL!
Bless you both, WOL. I get how, despite loving someone, you both can’t get along in the same house, for instance. I can sure understand the hope to be healthy and sharp of mind, right up until the last second, and a quick, painless end. I think that’s the best outcome any of us could want.
After making the bed (minus memory foam), I slept from around 10 to 3. My sleep/wake schedule is very out of whack, but I slept pretty well.
Curry had himself parked “guarding” the door to the Outside! lying down with his back to it, when I checked on them. He did want attention but wanted the Outside! moor. I think I’m finally resigned to letting him go; and yet I’m still attached and I think he is. If he could be an outside cat with a loving family who could train him to hold his claws in and behave better, that would be ideal. He has a sweet side. I am still convinced he’s good, he’s just so feral it’s beyond him. Or maybe once he’s neutered he’ll be OK. Yet I don’t think it’s that alone making him want out. So, well, kitty, I’ll give you the best chance I can to make you happy, even though it’ll be with someone else. But, darn it.
Goober was not impressed with me when I checked on them. I think he’s of the mind that he’s had all he can stand of me and of Curry for now, and please just let him be. So I guess he’ll be happier once this is taken care of. I feel bad for them both, and yeah, for me.
Krogers’ website says some Houston stores are closed. I am waiting until Monday to have things delivered, but oh, I sure want supplies, groceries.
And…I get to report that the air conditioner is once again leaking intermittently over the bathroom sink; or rather, about a foot away from it, so it can drip on my head when standing at the sink. Heh. Not bad yet, but I don’t want it leaking like it was last time, and they are going to hear about it until it is actually fixed.
Hoping for the first part of the week for a vet / shelter appointment for Curry and a checkup for Goober and Curry.
I have not yet ordered a futon. I want the sofa out of there first. But I do want something there to function as a sofa or an extra bed, for cases like this. — I have ordered a (claimed) waterproof cover for the new futon, and checked sizes.
About to warm a TV dinner (Lean Cuisine tortilla crusted fish, pretty good but not so filling) for myself, and feed the cats. Then whatever to do this evening.
The latest two loads of clothes are not dry yet, but it has been just sunny enough for them to have a better chance today.
Oh — Humor update: Some poor soul, minion of the apt. offices, posted an update saying apartments would be inspected the 24th through 26th or so. I guess with the tropical storm, it didn’t happen for a lot of people. Well, fine, the apartments need to be inspected. I just hope they catch any real problems and solve them. I’ll report the leak and will tell them I have done so. — So someone was posting these yesterday, since the note was there on my door early when I checked my mailbox.
Except for a few spots this morning, the complex is mostly drained outside. So although maintenance inside may not always be prompt or sufficient, they have one heck of a good campus drainage system, enough to handle hurricane and tropical storm level flooding.
Asperger’s was documented in the medical literature the year I was born, 1944. I inherited from my father (all the family friends always said I was like him, but he wouldn’t look in that mirror), but nobody’d really heard of or began to recognize it for another 50 years or more, this century, basically. A sociologist I ran into in college certainly didn’t, and one might have expected it to be his business to know. I didn’t discover I’m one until 10 years ago.
I’m not at all sure diagnoses made last century would’ve made life any better for Aspies, their relatives, or neurotypical SOs. It’s one of my criticisms of the ex post facto sorts of attacks on Biden, or even the #metoo movement. It was a different society back then. Miscegination was on the books in Virginia in 1974. Most, though not all, of us are time-travelers, but we tend to forget where we’ve been. Chaney, Schwerner, Goodman, remember them? In high-school I remember seeing documentaries of US Army films from opening the camps. And yes, it continued in Cambodia, Ruanda and Kosovo. But the 20th Century is now a foreign land. It wasn’t a good thing to be branded “diffferent” back then. Things we can imagine now couldn’t have happened then.
I don’t know what did it, but yesterday evening, Curry had 3 accidents, 2 just outside his litterbox and one where it first used to be. He had first used the litterbox itself, and I had sifted it earlier in the day as usual. So he was trying to be good. This output is way more frequent than usual. I’m about to check on him again. I hope it’s a one time event, but this means he has got to go to the doctor Monday or Tuesday, as soon as I can get him in. Poor little guy, thirsty and hungry of course after that. I couldn’t fuss at him. It was clear to me he was trying to do right and just couldn’t. He was trying to cover what he’d done, but of course, no litter there to cover it with. Bless his little heart.
So I’m hoping he’ll do OK Sunday and it will work out OK. — Goober is not affected as far as I can tell, but as I’ve said, of course he has to be tested after being around Curry for any length of time. — Tuesday will be the 5th week since Curry arrived. I want him well if at all possible. I want him to get a good home where he can be outside, which is what he wants. — He wanted attention but then needed a little space. He didn’t do any misbehaving, simply moved over. — I feel so torn, but I now feel getting him to a home where he can be outside is what he wants most, even though he’s become attached to me and is mostly friendly. I hope it all works out for him, and I hope he will get healthy and Goober will be healthy.
I will need to sweep and mop (yes, bleach added) soon. I’m still running on a sleep deficit and still feeling pulled both ways, even though my brain knows what needs to happen for his sake, a better home where he can be truly more happy, long-term, instead of shut in like he is now. (But in general, after having had an FIV+ cat before, my policy is, only outside when I can observe you, kitty.) Hoping I can rest when I sleep again.
He’s a good cat and so young. I hope he can have a good life and get past this.
“Due to the various displayer, there will be the phenomenon of chromatic aberration.”
— How to tell when the automatic translator function was working a little _too_ hard to get that translation just right. 😉 They were trying to say, I think, that due to various color monitor settings, and the dye process, the actual color may differ from the photo shown for the product.
No wonder Pyanfar, Hilfy, and Bren have to be so careful about the auto-translate function. Hahah.
However, major points because whoever (or whatever computer) translated that, they did get it very close to the intended meaning.
I had to chuckle recently at a cat product which had something about a “number one best” such-and-such product “for cat.” I had to wonder for a second there if a mahen trader had set up shop in the bizarre bazaar that is Amazon. Oh, the wonders of translation in a world that now routinely includes global foreign trade direct to the consumer, via product info and warehousing provided through a third party seller.
Somehow, The Expanse and Firefly both get this in a way most other video SF does not. I like how CJ’s writing is always aware of the humor and genuine attempts to communicate ac ross the language and culture divide between peoples or species.
— I’m resting today. Too tired to want to do much. I’ve worked out that it takes about 2.5 to 3 days for clothes to air-dry in my current setup.
Curry is OK, maybe a bit better. No extreme frequency of recurrence, but still has almost the runs. — I am mostly thankful that this time, since I was in the bathroom, he pooped in the bathtub. Easier cleanup, and rinse after. Good kitty, and I’m sorry he’s having a rough time of it. He seems to feel OK, though, but dang, I hope to get him to the doctor Monday or at least Tuesday, so he can get treatment. I feel bad for him, going through this, and I hope it can be cured. I’ve spot cleaned, but still will need to sweep and mop. It’s about as presentable as things are going to be for now, though.
I slept but I’m still really tired, sleep-deprived, physically and emotionally tired. So I’m going to spend time with the cats and take it easy today and nap later if I need to.
Because I can’t have a grocery delivery clash with a vet appointment, I haven’t scheduled the delivery yet. Hoping that can get resolved once I know my schedule during the week.
Society in a small town in Bible Belt Texas exerts enormous pressures to conform. My mom can’t understand why I’m not interested in attending my high school reunions. I was so glad to get out of that place. I have never set foot in it since. I was so fortunate to finally end up in a career that was suited to my skills, in a job situation where I only had to deal with people occasionally, and then, only over the phone.
I’ve been to some of my HS reunions – they’re helped by the place not being a Texas bible-belt town, though it’s a little on the conservative side even now. It’s not bad seeing people I’ve known, in some cases, since I was 6 – first grade! (The class was about 400 people. Many still live in that area, though one guy spends a lot of time in New Zealand.)
I wasn’t even invited to/notified of my HS reunions.
I think we’ve made some progress, but recently, some regression. I hope that regression is the last gasp of some of those old ideas, but I think it’s likely those will still be around into the current generation’s lifetimes.
I wish, fervently, that I had rebelled a little more as a kid and teen, insisted on more freedom to make and be with friends. I wish I could go back in time and talk to my parents in a serious way about this. I think they thought they were doing right, and that they didn’t realize what they were doing, to some large extent. I also wish I could have come out, maybe even in high school, though there were a few incidents in junior high (fights, etc.) which meant it’s almost a surprise my parents didn’t know what was going on with me. (Or they chose not to see it because they didn’t want to face it and deal with it, or didn’t know how to.) Looking back on that is very frustrating. Over the years, I’d had different opinions on it, but I now think one best friend, one of my first serious crushes (at 14 and 15) probably only had best friend feelings for me, and knew he would be moving in a few weeks, and that was why he’d wanted to spend some private time with me, off on our own. My parents wouldn’t let us go, and he left and I went to my room. That hurt me permanently. He came back over a week or two later to say they were moving and said goodbye. I don’t know if he (or my parents) knew I had a crush on him by then, and had for weeks. But there were plenty of clues, probably even when I was little or in elementary. (Othe4r kids made fun of me, but I thought it was because of my eyesight. It wasn’t until I knew what those words meant and had begun having the first feelings in a way I knew, that I realized what they’d meant. I doubt at that age that they had any more of an idea than I did exactly what it meant when they used those words or bullied me.) — But I wish I had at least been able to accept myself in college and come out then, at least to myself, and I wish I’d had friends I knew I could talk with. I didn’t. (That one friend came closest to a confidant like that.) — I think if I could have resolved it to that much, in college, that I might have gotten through the first time. But I was a mix of language and writing interest and computer interest then. I probably should have taken my French prof’s advice and switched to a language major. (I was an English major for that first go-round, but midway through, wanted to switch to computer science, and so my transcript is this wacky mix of core curriculum required for any degree there, courses for an English major and French lit. in French, and courses toward a computer science major at the time.) If web design or computer graphic arts degrees had been offered, those could’ve been ideal too. In college, I was in a very religious phase, thinking that was how I was supposed to be, and I think, using that as an excuse as well as a block, to avoid accepting myself and coming out. I wish I knew what would have reached me as a teen. If there were only a way to go back in time and talk to my younger self about it, to avoid a lot of wasted time and energy and mixed-up or bad feelings. But the time and place I grew up in was not at all friendly to someone being gay, despite that things were beginning to change for some people, gay and straight. One thing: at home and at church, being gay wasn’t the hellfire-and-brimstone overt sort of thing. I didn’t get told overtly that it was wrong, except in Bible quotes when those came up. Instead, being gay was practically unspeakable or unthinkable. My dad in particular hardly ever talked to me about sex or health issues related to that, and I grew up very shy about nudity. — I don’t think it quite dawned on my parents until I was in college and wasn’t dating (I’d wisely stopped trying to date girls). — I don’t think most people realize quite what it’s like to have many well-meaning friends, my generation or my parents’ or grandparents’ generations, asking if there was a girl I liked, who I was seeing, etc., and they never, ever dared to ask if, hmm, maybe I’d like a nice guy instead. If any of my guy friends did like me that way, I dnd’t know it, and I sure couldn’t bring myself to ask any of them, after fumbling attempts to ease anywhere around the subject as a teen. Hah, and I was so naive that if anyone had tried to set me up with a guy, I wouldn’t have had a clue, and if he’d tried to ask me, I don’t know how I would’ve reacted. I just don’t know what it would’ve taken to reach me back then. — I am still blocked somehow about this, but way too isolated from making new friends in general, let alone that. — I really wonder what it would have taken to get through to me on that, or to get me into a really more easygoing, healthier social setting to make friends or learn how to read guys, ask them, and date.
I wonder if there is some other side to that autism to neurotypical spectrum, other factors, maybe, which would explain my case or why my parents were how they were about things. I had one Asperger’s contact online who once thought maybe I had “reverse Asperger’s,” meaning overly emotionally sensitive along with some other factors that he thought were more typical of an Aspie personality. I think he might’ve been onto something there. — My parents had good friends, including a few lifelong friends. The difference (at least one) was that they hardly ever invited anyone over to our house and rarely visited friends at their homes, other than a few of those lifelong friends or church friends.
I grwe up with an older, maybe sensible, view by my parents that any friends, they had to know the friends and their parents before I could visit them or have them over. But since my parents didn’t know nearly any of my school friends and didn’t know or meet their parents, how was that ever going to happen, to have activities? — As a kid, sometime around early junior high, I stopped trying to trade phone numbers with friends because I knew I wouldn’t hear from anyone and wouldn’t get to see them. (Or at least I thought so. I stopped asking my parents.) I did join the French club in high school. It was one of very few extracurricular activities or meeting friends from school outside of school. — Er, when I tried to date, I got turned down a lot, and I quickly did realize, thankfully, that I wasn’t getting that “spark” that happens naturally between (straight) boys and girls who like each other. (Oh, I might get kind of bashful around a very few girls, but that didn’t have anything to do with the usual reason that boys and girls date. I’m not sure why that shyness got there, because it wasn’t typically around girls I did like as friends, and it could be around someone I’d only met and didn’t know.) I think the girls I did date or those who were really nice whom I asked and who turned me down gently, they probably knew me better then than I knew myself. I think they knew that wouldn’t work out aside from friendship. Uh, and to that perennial question, how do you know? Well…most boys don’t have to “try” to think about girls to be interested; even if they aren’t thinking of girls, they’re interested. Most boys don’t even think about other boys; and for most boys, they wouldn’t spontaneously be interested in another bo, whether they only saw him and hadn’t met him, or whether he was a friend to any degree. Also, if you actively try not to have any such feelings, you’re still going to have those feelings anyway, and if you do manage somehow to repress them when awake, well, you find out in your sleep that, hmm, you do have those feelings. That was one of the key realizations that made me have to admit to myself, in college, that I was gay and that was not going to change. I couldn’t “pray the gay away.” I tried that for a while, tried to be the perfect Christian boy and student. I would have been much better off to recognize it wasn’t going to change, to accept it, and try to find someone to figure all that out with, in the way that most straight kids try to figure out relationships and love.
For a while there, society seemed to be making some progress in certain quarters, about race, handicaps, sexuality, and any number of other issues. But other portions of society were still stuck in that same old fear, anger, hate, exclusion, shaming, bullying that has so often gone on toward anyone who is different in some way. (I saw the difference in how my mom and grandmother were treated when they were unwell or physically limited. I hated seeing them get treated like that, because I knew from personal experience what that’s like. It’s probably the fastest way to get to me, to mistreat any friend on account of such things.)
Lately, those prejudiced people have been emboldened to be vocal and pushy and prejudiced again, on any such issues, whether it’s age, gender, sexuality, race, religion, you name it. They hadn’t gone away, they just got more hidden and less bold about it.
But I hope that it will improve and some of the old meanness will die off. If our world is going to survive, we need to get beyond that.
(By the way, I still remember two boys at random who saw my grandmother slowly walking on her walker with me, down a mall corridor, and those two boys, with just a little fanfare, opened two doors and held them for us while she went through, smiling and not saying a word, just being good kids, gentlemen. I complimented them and told her, in their hearing, how nice it was of them to do that. I have no idea who they were or why they chose to do that, but it was a very special, wonderful thing. They were preteen to early teens. Whether they were thinking of their own loved ones or just doing a good deed, I thought it was great. Just ordinary kids. I haven’t thought of that in a long while. It makes me feel a little better. …My gosh, that’s been around 9 or 10 years ago. Those two boys are probably in college or graduated by now. Good for them.)
Some people have the idea that intolerance will die out when the intolerant people die out. But that idea has been around since the sixties. The eighteen-sixties. Probably earlier.
Intolerant people raise intolerant kids, and many institutions promote and advocate intolerance. And the problem remains intolerance, not the people other people don’t accept.
Cue South Pacific, 1958, “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught.”
There’s an interesting instance of a character with Aspergers appearing in fiction in the 1930s – long before it was formally described.
I know that I keep harping on ad nauseam about Arthur Ransome’s books, but bear with me. One of his characters has all the classic symptoms of high-functioning Aspergers, very clearly and accurately shown. There’s no question about it.
Ransome based many of his characters on real children that he knew, and he had undoubtedly observed a boy with the then-unknown Aspergers.
Dick Callum is about 11 years old in the first book in which he appears, and about 14 in the last.
Interestingly, he is accepted just as his is, both by other children and by adults. There is no discrimination. His strengths are valued, everything else is treated as harmless eccentricity, and they make allowances if necessary. They see him as a ‘little absent-minded professor’. His sister Dorothea, about a year older, is always somewhat protective of him, especially in social situations. Their father is described as being much the same as Dick.
The first book in which Dick and Dorothea appear is Winter Holiday, and most of the book is told from their point of view. It’s not necessary to read the earlier books. It stands on it’s own, and is one of the best. Another character in the book, Mr Dixon, is probably also on the spectrum.
It’s proof, if any was needed, that Aspergers has always been around, even if it wasn’t known as a specific condition.
It should’ve been called “Doyles Syndrome”, as he did a much earlier, detailed description of an Aspie, just in the “wrong” publications.
It’s one of the things I liked, starting as a solitary nine-year-old, in reading English books for kids, that different people just get to be themselves, accepted as they are and valued for their strengths. The Arthur Ransome books were some of my favorites.
Linnets and Valerians has some of that too.
I’ve read somewhere that the English accept ‘harmless eccentrics’, introverts enjoying being solitary, and people being themselves; while in the USA children are supposed to want to be together with their peers (and can thus be more subject to peer pressure), be part of the team, and kids (& people) who want to go off and be by themselves are more likely considered to be ‘lone wolves’ and possibly dangerous than just harmlessly eccentric.
At least from their older children’s literature, this seems to be somewhat true.
There is that tendency, yes. I am not sure how much of it is due to Americans starting out as a pioneer, frontier society, where someone solitary or very unusual might genuinely be a risk to a family or community, while others might be just loners or a bit eccentric, but fine. Americans do put a value on that “lone wolf” sort of person, such as the hero archetypes or the inventors or artists. But oh, there is a lot of peer pressure to conform, to be part of the group and to think and act in a certain prescribed and proscribed and circumscribed way. — But hah, there are plenty of us who are “rugged individualists” or misfits or whatever it might be. Americans have maybe a dual outlook on that, valuing it but suspecting it. Americans also have a strong puritanical streak, sometimes.
I don’t know quite what the difference is from the Australian and New Zealander points of view, since they also started as a frontier colonial society from English and other European roots. The English are not without their own dichotomy on how they view loners or eccentrics, but there are slight national character differences in the approaches from each. (Ah, I left out Canada; sorry, neighbors.)
There is something really valuable in children’s and young adults’ / teens’ books being more tolerant of different styles of thinking or acting, of seeing value in these differences and making use of them for mutual benefit, of finding friends and commonalities, of being able to cooperate instead of making enemies or misunderstanding or hurting each other. The current politically correct and “nanny” approach, I don’t think is the better answer; it goes too far into, hmm, pablum or false pretenses, paying lip service instead of actual acceptance and understanding of differences? At least that’s how it seems to me. But there has been some real progress made in some areas, which gets too often overshadowed by the negative coverage we see in the news or in social media nowadays. (Social media is either not yet mature enough, or else it’s showing how very immature so many “average normal” people can be, while the shining examples may tend to get lost in the shuffle of all those tweets and posts and er, hmm, blog comments. (Looks at self for a moment. Hmm.)
I have been struggling lately with my situation and feeling pretty glum or discouraged, downrlght cynical and misanthropic at times, or at least very hurt and prone to indulging in a self-pity-party. — I am trying to counter that, as it’s not helpful and doesn’t make me feel better. I just want things to improve. From my other posts in this blog post, I guess it shows that I’ve been questioning how I was raised and how to get myself out of old, bad habits and into something better, not so alone.)
Interesting that two folks here would comment about Ransome’s books, so I’ll look up those. — Like I don’t already have a virtual book stack a mile or two high? Haha. Gotta catch up some and read more often. I must make time for this, fiction and study both.
I will look for that first book, and I’m curious about the last one too.
Thinking further: Kids with various handicaps or conditions can exhibit some of the “displacement” or coping behaviors that I’ve seen/heard attributed to Asperger’s folks; for example, rocking, listening to music or humming a song repeatedly, other behaviors that average people, unfamiliar with these things, consider eccentric or “special needs” about kids with whatever condition or handicap it may be (often clusters of issues). This can continue in their teens or as adults. It may relate to being bored or stressed or lack of enough attention from friends and family, playmates, understanding of the young person’s issues, and the kinds of socialization, overprotection, or isolation that such kids tend to have. It can also be because kids with special needs may not mature socially or emotionally as fast, or evenly on all fronts, the way most average kids do. They can lag behind some in some ways, and be very mature in others. They may also be more used to being around adults, adult behavior, than to being around other kids their age or older or younger.
So some of this is not necessarily on the autism spectrum or Asperger’s specific, I think. Those kids, myself probably included, are generally neurotypical, although they could have developmental issues there too, I don’t know.
I was mostly better off about this. I was in regular classes instead of special ed, because I was smart enough and “adapted” enough to function with the other kids. But I got a lot of teasing and some bullying for it. (As a kid, elementary and junior high, I did not always know the difference between teasing because they were kidding or liked me, versus bullying. I was extra sensitive about it. I began outgrowing that in late junior high and was better off in high school.) But as a kid and teen and adult, I’ve been around other kids and adults with special needs enough that I’ve seen some of the things we do. I didn’t do those as much, sometimes not at all, but other times, hmm, things were there.
(I was one of those kids who got called a professor as a kid, by other kids, by the way.)
So I wonder if there are more aspects to the puzzle than people are aware of, or maybe I’m not familiar enough with the work done on the condition.
I also wonder how many friends or customers over the years have had Asperger’s in some mild form, and I (and they) didn’t know about it. The first I’d ever heard of Asperger’s was on a Farscape forum, because a young lady there had it, and after that, I began seeing more about it and more people online with it. But that dates to after 2000. I had not heard of it in the 1990’s or earlier. I only heard of ADHD in the 90’s, either. I am sure both have been around forever.
I also wonder how many components there are to it. Some people have strengths in one are but not in another, while others are affected differently, and I suspect it’s more of an area or a volume than a linear spectrum. Maybe a web of interconnecting nodes is the best way to think of it.
I wonder too about supposedly neurotypical people. There are a heck of a lot of things in so-called average or normal behavior that are not always so well adapted or can be rather eccentric or idiosyncratic (unique to the person) responses or behaviors, that can occur as patterns, consistently, or that crop up from time to time. So if we expand out to that, just how large a space, a domain, are we talking about, what all is included, in what is normal or unusual? Just because it might not be usual or “normal” or average, doesn’t always mean it’s maladaptive, misbehavior, or some other negative connotation. But I wonder, if we widen the scope, just what do we find about the space of human behavior, human thought and emotion and instincts, going on? Asperger’s and autism and others are somewhere in that, right along with neurotypical people or a host of other conditions or behavioral patterns.
I could never take the Swallows and Amazons books seriously, not because of the character development, which was excellent, but because of the degree of autonomy the kids were allowed. Going off unsupervised on a multi-day sailing and camping holiday?; not in any universe I would be likely to encounter. And they would be even more unbelievable now. When I tell parents of the rules the kids on my suburban block had for taking axes, hammers and shovels down to play in the bush; “stay together, the dog is charge, no new nails (straighten old ones), be back for supper”, the result is incredulity.
Hi Teasel, nice to see you commenting, even if you do tend to get snowed under a bit!
Yeah, the freedom those kids in the old English children’s books had is a bit unbelievable, but no more so than the magic in any fantasy story.
I always thought it was because of the tradition of sending young boys off to boarding school, and upper class kids being left to nannies (and poor kids left on their own at home while the parents needed to work, as still happens in poor countries) these kids who became writers were used to being out from under parental supervision.
As your previous question about the fishes indoor and out is still unanswered, I’m still hoping CJ might get around to telling us how they are doing in a future post.