And he really, really doesn't like folks shoving sticks up his butt. Or shots. He turned into a ball of hide-my-face-fur at the vet. With a thready purr that signified possible happiness or threatening doom. For us.
The vet tech remarked, "He's really strong for a cat his size..." as they plopped him on his side for the fecal. His eyes were bigger than I've ever seen them.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
The Jeps
As in Jeopardy, the show. Oh shit. I'm going to Kansas City for an audition. It's not like I've not done it before.
See, back in the day, 1984, just after the oldest Frothlet was born, when we were living in Huntington Beach, I drove to Hollyweird and auditioned for the show. I passed the test and did the mock game and they never called me. I blame my egregiously heinous permed hair for that. I looked like Little Orphan Annie. Or, maybe they thought I sucked.
So, maybe five years ago or so I auditioned again in Houston. I passed the test and did the mock game and made them laugh, even. And they never called me. I guess they thought I sucked.
So, I've taken the online test a couple of times, the first time knowing completely that I'd bombed. The second time, back in February, I thought I did mediocre, but just forgot about it.
So, I got an email from them that I had a slot to come to KC for the in person audition. I was gobsmacked. WTF? Maybe I did better than I thought? Maybe it's a mercy call. I don't know. Regardless, I sprang for the plane ticket and hotel and am gonna do it.
Here's the problem. I've gotten older and my immediate recall on some shit is slower. I have these nightmares that if by some weird happenstance they call me to tape I'll get on the show and melt down or be one of those people everybody mocks.
And then I think-who gives a crap? Do it.
See, back in the day, 1984, just after the oldest Frothlet was born, when we were living in Huntington Beach, I drove to Hollyweird and auditioned for the show. I passed the test and did the mock game and they never called me. I blame my egregiously heinous permed hair for that. I looked like Little Orphan Annie. Or, maybe they thought I sucked.
So, maybe five years ago or so I auditioned again in Houston. I passed the test and did the mock game and made them laugh, even. And they never called me. I guess they thought I sucked.
So, I've taken the online test a couple of times, the first time knowing completely that I'd bombed. The second time, back in February, I thought I did mediocre, but just forgot about it.
So, I got an email from them that I had a slot to come to KC for the in person audition. I was gobsmacked. WTF? Maybe I did better than I thought? Maybe it's a mercy call. I don't know. Regardless, I sprang for the plane ticket and hotel and am gonna do it.
Here's the problem. I've gotten older and my immediate recall on some shit is slower. I have these nightmares that if by some weird happenstance they call me to tape I'll get on the show and melt down or be one of those people everybody mocks.
And then I think-who gives a crap? Do it.
Owls and Froths
So, the elderly Mr. Froth is now in the nursing home section of his retirement community. It's a NICE retirement community. Way nicer than our house, for that matter. He and the passed Mrs. Elderly Froth bought into the deal several years ago, living in the independent living section. The options for him included the assisted living and nursing home (she didn't qualify for the nursing home due to her many and varied ailments and whatevers). She passed away in 2008 and that rather precipitated elderly Mr. Froth's (EMF from now on) decline, I think.
They had a completely warped co-dependent relationship in which he cared for her and she laid in bed and bitched. But, that's old news.
Last December we moved him into assisted living and at the time he was still lucid and mobile, although suffering from awful skin problems and general angst. Then, in February? or March he slipped out of his scooter, thought he broke his hip, entered the hospital, Mr. Froth went down for ten days as did the Froth sis, came back to his room, had a drug reaction, went back in, etc. and etc. and etc. The result was inability to walk or take care of himself, so he was plopped in the nursing home. He has steadily declined, is unintelligible, incontinent, all of the things that happen when dementia and age coalesce. So, we, Mr. Froth, Froth sis, Froth sis's husband and I went down last week.
It could have been worse. Oh, the cleaning out of the apartment and the SURPRISE! two storage lockers were daunting, but not as bad as the original apartment. And, EMF perked the hell up when we were there. It's amazing what happens when you roll someone around to visit people he used to know, employees he used to know, and, remarkably still does remember, and give him an opportunity to bullshit his eyes loose.
Mind you, it's not all understandable, but it's all good. We've arranged to have someone get him rolling three or four times a week. It makes a world of difference. I was all set to get into people's faces about meds or something, but what they're doing is correct and things have stabilized. I don't know how the nurses and aides do it.
So, the fun stuff. We were sitting outside the main entrance and EMF mentioned he'd lost $4500 at the track the night before. So, we asked him, "Didja have fun?" Well, yeah. So why not? He, of course, was asleep the night before and probably lost that money at the same place that he didn't get his paycheck from them...
He also informed us that they were putting on a play or revue, but the judging was suspect, though they told him he was going to be the comedian and would probably win. I wanted to know the outcome the next day but the results were iffy. Apparently it was called Harry of Hollywood and involved sexual escapades. I cannot make this up. Oh. And a three-pound potato. Maybe that was the door prize.
EMF is a social director, knowing no strangers, a flirt and has a tremendous sense of humor (it's genetic) and even when hallucinating is just fabulous.
All in all, it was better than we expected, yet still very rough.
Oh. Owls. That would be the elderly Mrs. Froth's owl collection that nobody wanted. While inventorying the apartment items I picked up each and ever owl and got a bit weepy and thought it would be awful to just leave them for the employee auction. So, we shipped a 100 pounds of crystal and porcelain owls to our house. NOT ONE BROKE. I'm not shitting you. Plus, there are some pricey ones in there. Must decide where to put and what to do with.
They had a completely warped co-dependent relationship in which he cared for her and she laid in bed and bitched. But, that's old news.
Last December we moved him into assisted living and at the time he was still lucid and mobile, although suffering from awful skin problems and general angst. Then, in February? or March he slipped out of his scooter, thought he broke his hip, entered the hospital, Mr. Froth went down for ten days as did the Froth sis, came back to his room, had a drug reaction, went back in, etc. and etc. and etc. The result was inability to walk or take care of himself, so he was plopped in the nursing home. He has steadily declined, is unintelligible, incontinent, all of the things that happen when dementia and age coalesce. So, we, Mr. Froth, Froth sis, Froth sis's husband and I went down last week.
It could have been worse. Oh, the cleaning out of the apartment and the SURPRISE! two storage lockers were daunting, but not as bad as the original apartment. And, EMF perked the hell up when we were there. It's amazing what happens when you roll someone around to visit people he used to know, employees he used to know, and, remarkably still does remember, and give him an opportunity to bullshit his eyes loose.
Mind you, it's not all understandable, but it's all good. We've arranged to have someone get him rolling three or four times a week. It makes a world of difference. I was all set to get into people's faces about meds or something, but what they're doing is correct and things have stabilized. I don't know how the nurses and aides do it.
So, the fun stuff. We were sitting outside the main entrance and EMF mentioned he'd lost $4500 at the track the night before. So, we asked him, "Didja have fun?" Well, yeah. So why not? He, of course, was asleep the night before and probably lost that money at the same place that he didn't get his paycheck from them...
He also informed us that they were putting on a play or revue, but the judging was suspect, though they told him he was going to be the comedian and would probably win. I wanted to know the outcome the next day but the results were iffy. Apparently it was called Harry of Hollywood and involved sexual escapades. I cannot make this up. Oh. And a three-pound potato. Maybe that was the door prize.
EMF is a social director, knowing no strangers, a flirt and has a tremendous sense of humor (it's genetic) and even when hallucinating is just fabulous.
All in all, it was better than we expected, yet still very rough.
Oh. Owls. That would be the elderly Mrs. Froth's owl collection that nobody wanted. While inventorying the apartment items I picked up each and ever owl and got a bit weepy and thought it would be awful to just leave them for the employee auction. So, we shipped a 100 pounds of crystal and porcelain owls to our house. NOT ONE BROKE. I'm not shitting you. Plus, there are some pricey ones in there. Must decide where to put and what to do with.
Rapture and races
I think it was most excellent planning that they arranged the Ironman today. Most of the participants will be done before the 6 p.m. startoff of the earthquakes, so the only ones that would be scooped into the fissures would be the stragglers. I mean, after a 3 mile or whatever swim, a 112 mile bike ride and a marathon would they really care?
Wouldn't it be funny if the rapture happened tomorrow morning? Old Harold would have to sit at the gates and explain his faulty math.
The whole shebang began today at 6 with the swim in the lovely Lake Woodlands. Mr. Froth and others had taken soundings on the waterway channel which was the final portion of it about two weeks ago and, I mean, it was SHALLOW. Like mud shallow. Some of the swimmers probably felt like salamanders. We live only a 10-15 minute walk from the park from which they began and two blocks from one of the turns for the runners, so we're cooking up some burgers and wandering down later to watch folks run/limp past.
The bike ride course meanders up throughout the county-112 miles-that makes me tired to type it-and remarkably, some of the total times for all three segments are around 8 hours. That's insane.
You have the usual bitchers who've complained about road lanes being blocked off (nothing precluding anyone from entering or exiting their neighborhoods) and the hoopla and WHY ARE YOU DISRUPTING US?!?!
Well, you idiots, the incremental hotel, restaurant and other assorted revenues coming in keep your freaking property taxes down. Ya dolts. Or, dickheads, as it were.
It's supposed to be about 92 here today, which is good preparation as a qualifier for the Kona event, but luckily it's cloudy, which is saving some people, I'm sure.
Wouldn't it be funny if the rapture happened tomorrow morning? Old Harold would have to sit at the gates and explain his faulty math.
The whole shebang began today at 6 with the swim in the lovely Lake Woodlands. Mr. Froth and others had taken soundings on the waterway channel which was the final portion of it about two weeks ago and, I mean, it was SHALLOW. Like mud shallow. Some of the swimmers probably felt like salamanders. We live only a 10-15 minute walk from the park from which they began and two blocks from one of the turns for the runners, so we're cooking up some burgers and wandering down later to watch folks run/limp past.
The bike ride course meanders up throughout the county-112 miles-that makes me tired to type it-and remarkably, some of the total times for all three segments are around 8 hours. That's insane.
You have the usual bitchers who've complained about road lanes being blocked off (nothing precluding anyone from entering or exiting their neighborhoods) and the hoopla and WHY ARE YOU DISRUPTING US?!?!
Well, you idiots, the incremental hotel, restaurant and other assorted revenues coming in keep your freaking property taxes down. Ya dolts. Or, dickheads, as it were.
It's supposed to be about 92 here today, which is good preparation as a qualifier for the Kona event, but luckily it's cloudy, which is saving some people, I'm sure.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Okay then! Hello!
We've been busy. Busy busy busy. Visiting the lovely climes of Fort Myers, Florida where the scooters free range and the noseeums eat the shit out of your legs.
I'm simply too tired to regale. However, maybe tomorrow I can post some fun things about Mr. Froth's dad that will make you smile. And make you wistful. If anyone still reads me...
Unless we're run over by the Ironman contestants coursing through our community while we walk Dot. Yes. We have the Ironman competition taking place here in the lovely The Woodlands. Pretty amazing.
Next.
I'm simply too tired to regale. However, maybe tomorrow I can post some fun things about Mr. Froth's dad that will make you smile. And make you wistful. If anyone still reads me...
Unless we're run over by the Ironman contestants coursing through our community while we walk Dot. Yes. We have the Ironman competition taking place here in the lovely The Woodlands. Pretty amazing.
Next.
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