I’m still having these weird mood swings. Friday I got to go to the local flea market for the first time in several years…and spend all the time I wanted (5 hours, before my feet gave out and I got concerned about fighting work traffic so headed home). Now granted, I intended to spend very little, so that’s not quite as much fun as it could be (LOL) although I gave myself permission to buy one sizable thing should I find one I could not live without. I gotta get a job, y’all (more on that in a minute though)
I did find a great craft book, a bunch of things to collage with (old postcards and movie star trading cards from the 1920s!) and a pretty handmade beaded bracelet (and eyed another, but then I figured out how I could make my own with stuff I have at home for next to nothing. That’s the fun part of a self-imposed spending limit, hehe) I did find two wonderful fountain pens, one of which was my big spend for the day (well, $25, which is a big spend to me if not to somebody else; it was a steal at that!)
Saturday morning, I spent the entire morning out in the yard, putting out plants and trimming back the ivy on the Ivy Encrusted Cottage and weeding my Japanese irises. It felt so good to know I could take my time and mom wasn’t going to come staggering out on the porch in 3 or 4 minutes wailing because I’d left. And Sunday, I spent a little time moseying around the local art supply store, before I drove out to the old airport for a beginners’ bike riding class (flunked out. Oh well. I know my balance sucked. Might go back next class and try again. Then again, I’m still sore as heck 2 days later, and I banged the crap out of one ankle till it’s black and blue! So, maybe, maybe not.)
Things like that are really joyful. But earlier this morning while I was eating breakfast, I had the Food network on, and the Pioneer Woman was making refried beans. Not long before we moved mom out, I started making her bean and cheese burritos, and she loved them. I didn’t make them unless I had the pre-made ones, though. I didn’t have time to make them from scratch, or really know how. So there I was, seeing how easy it is, and I almost started to cry, because I could have been making them for her all this time and didn’t. I know, that probably sounds really dumb. It’s not as if she knows or cares. But it is what it is.
The psych unit team is calling Place K today to come evaluate mom and see if they feel she is well enough to move back there. Of course, that means a rerun of the whole moving her in and getting out without her freaking out. Needless to say, I am not looking forward to that.
At points I have felt, and still do feel at times, that I’d be better off just getting my money back and bringing her back home. At times, as I say, at points, at moments. Rationally, I think back to the weeks before her move, when she hardly ever knew who I was or where she was, when she talked a lot about things that made no sense, when I couldn’t get her up for meals sometimes, or at all sometimes. Reasonably, I know I can’t take care of her by myself anymore. I can’t give her the care she needs. And even with help, I couldn’t have the option of trying to go back to work or really get my life back. Maybe that sounds selfish, I don’t know. I hope not.
Until we get the call to come and get her, or do whatever we need to do, I’m going to take as much advantage as I can of being able to follow my own schedule, and come and go as I please. Yesterday I sat outside and read library books and drank lemonade. Yep, another terribly boring-sounding afternoon, that is my idea of heaven right now. And you know what? After I get this blog posted, I’m going outside and do it again! (I better, I have a huge stack of library books to work through. LOL)
Oh, a couple of quick updates. I got offered another freelance writing job! Sent in all the paperwork and watched the training videos this morning. Every little bit helps. I’ve applied for a few real jobs, but am a little scared to go all in on job hunting until mom is settled.
And I finally finished the afghan I mentioned long, long ago, inspired by the story about the lonely granny who accidentally summons a demon.
Don’t panic, it’s not going to summon any demons. I made sure of that. 😊 All the designs are positive, and nothing came from an ‘actual’ magic book. (In case anybody is interested: the white on black set of motifs have the Viking runes for renewal, movement, protection, joy and hope. The set of black on white motifs inside the star’s points include a cross, and the Hebrew letters spelling a name of God. And the other black on white motifs, the ones at the points of the star, spell out the word FAITH in Enochian, said to be the language of the angels.)
So, life moves along. At least, I’m hoping so.