Y'all Have Fun Now

If you want a treat for the eye, I'd recommend, "Black Rabbit" on Netflix.  I had to watch it on my little 13" Apple computer last night, but I've ordered a new Fire Stick for my mother's house which will be here today, and I am going to start over and watch the first episode again on the larger screen.  I don't know how enamored I will be with the story, but the cinematography is beautiful.  

And that's about the cheeriest thing I have to say about yesterday.  I brought my mother back to her house.  This has been all she has wanted, her constant cry--"I want to go home."

I thought it was going to make her happy.  There is no happy left, I guess.  There is no happy when you are in constant pain.  Of course, there is nothing I can do to alleviate that.  And so. . . we are back in the same place we were just before she went to the hospital last.  

I had to make a grocery store run.  And a liquor store run.  $300 between the two.  Then I picked up our "celebratory" pizza from the hippie place.  When I got back, the first order was to put all the groceries away.  The second. . . you see it.  We sat in the open garage as always, and as usual, some neighbors on their late afternoon stroll stopped to chat.  My mother sat fairly silent.  So. . . again, I had to carry the conversation.  

We went in to eat the now cold pizza and watch the 6:30 news.  

I left my mother to the television.  All there is for me to do here is read or futz around on my little laptop.  And so that is what I did.  

I went to bed early, woke up an hour later and decided I would need to take a pill.  I didn't sleep well at all, and I got up before six, put on the coffee, and read the news.  But the drug still had me, so an hour later, I went back to bed.  And now I am up. . . sort of.  I still have a jittery buzz running through my body and my brain.  My mother is up now, too, and makes constant slow motion trips back and forth through the house pushing her walker before her.  I must prepare her multitude of meds to take with the breakfast I will make her.  There are a lot of them.  

I won't go on about it.  I'll just say it is not a Happy Homecoming at all.  

So. . . to make life more hospitable for me here in my mother's house, I have ordered a new Fire Stick for the television and a $200 bluetooth speaker so I can sit in the living room and listen to music in hopes that it will calm me.  

What to do?  I will leave her after breakfast and go home to do some work that desperately needs to be done.  That will be the highlight of my day.  

I look forward to a nap.  

I just need to be out of reach of constant need.  I know some of you raised children.  I have thought about that.  But your child, I hope, was not in constant pain.  And you did it in your own home.  You had your things.  Time management is one thing.  This is something else.  

I will be looking into getting help.  I am not able to do 24/7 shifts.  It is impossible.  I've been told I can get people who will stay with her at night while she sleeps.  They don't sleep.  They sit up and read or watch t.v.  They are just on "the night shift."  I've heard, too, that it can be affordable.  

This is me this morning.  And it hasn't even been an entire day yet.  It feels like weeks.  

Pleasant notes.  The weather has been nice.  Other people seem to be feeing festive.  I've been taking photographs even if mostly bad ones.  I am determined to do so again today if only for a little while.  

And that is all I have for the "Pleasant Notes" portion of the program.  This is like the Evening News, I guess.  A bunch of terrible reports and then ending with something upbeat.  

And mundane.  

That's it for now.  I hear my mother groaning and moaning and grunting in the kitchen.  I must tend to my duties.  As they say here in the sunny south, "Y'all have fun now, hear?"