Awake half the night with allergy flare ups (dust? old people? make-up, heaven forbid?) and downed NyQuil at 4 AM, my mind all over the place, should I sell off some acreage, should I have these woods logged, will those earrings sell for enough on eBay or should I have gone with that offer for $50 plus postage, the Malaysian plane crash, what if mine did, does, who would take over here, I can't expect Alex or DK to leap in here happily or even unhappily, then remembered Mutual of Omaha travel insurance policy Odd took out for me when I moved to England in 1980 for which they still pay $25 a year, and relaxed enough to nod off, thinking well, if I go down, DK and Alex will get insurance money and that'll cover Peg and Odd's well-being plus the new annexe we want to build in Suffolk at the bottom of the garden where the music shed is. Awakened at 7:40 by Bonnie's usual 20-minute-ETA call from Lee, instigated three years ago to give Peg time to get to the front door and undo the twelve bolts and chains (Lee is 10 miles away).
So was feeling headachey and woozy this morning. Only to be greeted by Peg On A Rampage, this time about staff members who break for lunch. Basically she's annoyed when anyone leaves attending to her and what SHE'S doing, to go do something for Odd. Like get his lunch. Peg told me to stay out of it, that she was talking to Bonnie. Bonnie said, no, that I should be a part of any discussion. It escalated into one of those arguments that shouldn't be, that doesn't hold water, that doesn't go anywhere and is never resolved and for which Peg is famous. She held her head in her hands a moment staring at the butcherblock then demanded to know what I'd done with the photographs of all our portraits, the answer being: haven't touched the buggers. She then went into her room, leaving me chasing after her with her walker.
I will finish the script project begun yesterday, the photos-for-her-website project also begun yesterday, wrap two eBay things to be mailed, and make her some curried leek and potato soup.
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STAFF ON CALL:
Bonnie 8 - 2:30.
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YES! Finished script project. And eBay, plus listed 3 more, plus did pics (almost), plus soup.
I'll tell you why I'm a terrible daughter though. Odd, having had a 4 hour nap, rises to make a mess in the loo and eat some open-faced sandwiches and get a nebulizer, then heads off again for more nap, Peg having just gone down. Peg surfaces at 5:30 for soup. Odd at 7 for cookies. I had defrosted a Price-Chopper roasted chicken, made gravy, because she only likes meat and potatoes and gravy, put a Stouffer's spinach souffle in the microwave (am trying to get through the freezers here, all three of 'em) and announced dinner. Peg staggers out sans walker to eat her Big Wet Dinner, and Odd, who has gone back to bed, and who Peg has to awaken, also staggers out sans walker, which I then go find. They turn on "Call the Midwife". I put his plate of 1 roast chicken leg, 1 scoop of spinach soufflé, and dollop on lingonberry preserves down in front of him and he smiles and says "Oh! Cute!" and chuckles. He does this every time I put food in front of him, like I've made his meal into the shape of an airplane or something. Can I smile and chuckle back and say "Bon Appetit, Daddy"? No, I have to say "Cute?? What's cute about it? It's dinner!"
No patience. I have less and less as Peg and Odd lose more and more marbles. Maybe it's the just the childbirth cries at top volume setting me on edge.
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HIGHLIGHTS:
An hour outside on the driveway, my back against a pine tree, face in the sun. Dog sniffing stuff but not running away or onto the road.
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