The Cardinal and Ms. Mosey

A couple weeks ago Mosey decided to wake some residents up in the middle of the night "just for fun". Her words, not mine. Apparently, she got up around midnight and ambled off towards Mae's room; that was her first stop and it turned out to be the most effective. When mom walked in Mae started yelling so loud that some other folks started waking up. Mom kept moving down the hall until sixteen residents in total were up for good, demanding cereal and entertainment. Go Mosey.

Are we in Harlem?

Mom's orientation to place is very fuzzy these days. On a drive around south Minneapolis recently she asked repeatedly if we were in Miami and I would tell her as gently as possible that this is Minneapolis and we live here now. "Isn't that where Mar moved to?" "Yes, she lives here now, too." (Her orientation to others is also a wee bit fuzzy.) We had this conversation off and on for about 45 minutes and I was getting used to answering the same question in a variety of ways to keep it interesting for both of us. So I was taken completely off guard when mom asked if we were in Harlem.

"I don't think so...does this look like Harlem?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"Have you ever been to Harlem?" trying to keep my voice in a conversational, just-having-a-little-chit-chat tone.

"Oh, yeah...me and George used to drive around there all the time. It was real fun."

"You and Dad used to drive around Harlem?" trying desperately to remember any story of them being in Harlem at any time.

"Oh, yeah, we'd drive over to Harlem from Miami Springs and just go up and down the streets. It was real nice."

For the record, Harlem and Miami Springs are very far apart but for mom Harlem was just out the window so we soaked it in: blue skies, many green trees, miles of single family homes with matching yards, wind blowing hard and kicking up dirt and dust, highways and lots and lots of cars. Although I've never been to Harlem, who knows, maybe it looks alot like south Minneapolis.

It's my turn

Henry and I stopped in to visit Mosey yesterday and we went out to the patio to get some wind in our whiskers. Henry pushed mom's walker around for a while and when it was time to go back in for dinner Henry didn't want to give it back. I started explaining the importance of mom using the walker to Henry, reasoning with him and generally cajoling him to give it up. He was not impressed. Mom, in her infinite wisdom, simply stood up and said to Henry, "It's my turn, now" and he let go of it without incident. Zen Master Mosey keepin' it simple.

Hats, chocolate cake and many mothers

The world is full of mothers. On the compound today it was all mothers wanting cake, reluctantly wearing hats from Mosey's vast array and allowing photos only after some coaching. These mothers are a little shy, feeling inadequate, not pretty enough, a little rumpled. Afraid to get their picture taken but not afraid to lick all the ice cream off their plates. Suspicious of anyone that dares to give them a manicure but nearly making wolf whistles at any man that suits their fancy.
Another day in Moseyville.

Fountain of Youth

I decided tonight was the night to drink the bottled water collected from The Fountain of Youth in St. Augustine, Fl. Mom drank it up and enjoyed every drop.

Dirty Pearls

So there's mom working on arranging some pot pourri in her lap. I made some from the fresh flowers that we've been buying from the nearby flower shop. It smells fabulous in her room and she liked looking at the pretty dried roses and arranging them according to color.
Tonight was a first for me: I had to clean the pearl necklace that she's wearing in the photo. There was some pink goo on them and I couldn't not clean them. Mom said the lady that gave them to her insisted that she wear them and wouldn't take them back. So now mom's got a fresh clean pearl necklace hanging in her room ready for the next lady that comes along needing some pearls.