Is it really December already?

I wish I had more time to share the daily goodies that come my way, but man this place is nuts. I'm also providing administrative support to a sister property who lost their director, so all my little post-it notes of things I want to remember to write about will have to continue to wait for another day. Until then, though, here's a little piece of hilarious conversation that took place outside my office door on Tuesday of last week.

Lois (of the mismatched socks): "Gladys, is Thanksgiving tomorrow?"

Gladys: "Well, I don't know. Is it this week?"

Lois: "Joseph, do you know if Thanksgiving is tomorrow?"

Joseph: laughs "Huh. Well. I guess I don't know."

Lois: to Little Miss Chatterbox "How about you? Do you know if Thanksgiving is tomorrow?"

LMCB: "You know, that's a funny thing, Thanksgiving. I said to my daughter on the phone this morning that Thanksgiving should be coming up, and then she told me when it was. I wonder if we'll have turkey here? Everyone always thinks you have to have turkey on Thanksgiving, but I think why should it always be turkey? We could have something besides turkey. And stuffing! All that bread? Why should people serve that every Thanksgiving. Really. But anyway she told me when Thanksgiving was, but I don't think I can remember."

Lois: still not giving up "Maude? Do you know if Thanksgiving is tomorrow?"

Maude, who is 99 and performing true to her usual form, put an end to the entire conversation by replying "How in the hell should I know?"

I love old people.

TGIF

I'm really not too superstitious or into astrology...but I do have to admit that there is something to that full moon stuff. We've had a special kind of crazy going on the past few days. Like residents asking us to help them "get their bowels out," or confused residents talking about how confused other residents are, or the guy who showed up to supper soaking wet and acted like he didn't even notice. Oh, and how can I forget the potential resident whom I met for the first time this week? I knew her for five whole minutes when she proceeded to tell me all about the man she was married to for 20 years before he decided "he liked the boys," and continued to refer to him as "the queer" for the rest of the conversation. Oy.

Then we have Little Miss Chatterbox, who has taken to wearing the lab coat daily. I heard someone ask her if she was a pharmacist. (They were serious.) Gladys thinks Naomi has been taking her teabags while she's out of the apartment. 98-year-old Maude tripped and fell. Before I could even ask if she was alright she threw her cane and purse and yelled "Damn it all to hell." Apparently she was still mad later. She dumped her salad on the table at lunch because the man she was sitting with didn't want one. I guess she doesn't like eating alone? There's more, but I need to cut it short because I can hear Joseph coming (his walker wheel has a distinct squeak) and he's going to want to know about mass. Again.

Here's my Friday Photo! I'm eight years old, and on the left (as you look at the screen, Big Bro. Or the right, if you turn your back to it. Geez.)

I ran twice this week. Next week will be even better. Happy weekending!

TGIF Photo Friday

I found an extra special gift for all you Gladys Groupies out there! I had completely forgotten this picture I took last summer, so what serendipity to find it this morning. Gladys is the redhead, and sitting beside her is Lois, who died this past December.

Lois is the resident who answered the door wearing underwear on her head and once called Maude an old bitch. Man, I miss her.

Speaking of Maude.... Little Miss Chatterbox followed Maude to her apartment after lunch yesterday, of course talking all the way. Apparently, Little Miss Chatterbox was trying to tell Maude she thinks her hair is a pretty color of white (it really is). Maude got to her apartment, turned around and looked Little Miss Chatterbox right in the eye... and slammed the door. Seriously, who has more fun at work than me?

Yay for the long weekend! My plans include running 17.6, playing in the garden, and drinking some wine. Have a happy!

Updates

Last week Rock Ridge hosted our company's regional training, so we had ten people from all over the US hanging out with us and enjoying all that our small town has to offer, which isn't a whole lot. Hosting is exhausting, and mega time consuming, but the upside was the valuable training and the reaffirmation that I work for an incredible company. It's awesome to spend time with such positive, uplifting, and creative people....all of whom really love old people.

Everyone also claims this industry has been (and will remain) unaffected by the state of our economy. I have to wonder how that is possible, but that's what the experts are saying...so I'm going with it.

In Resident news: My little 102 year old had a heart attack. She wouldn't get out of bed and told the WorkerBee to "go away and leave me alone so I can die today." Well, she didn't die...quite the contrary. She's recovering quite nicely and should be home soon. Incredible.

Gladys claims some shyster came to Rock Ridge and took her picture, charged her $75 for the photo, and never delivered it. I'm guessing something like this actually happened to her at some point in her life, but it totally cracks me up to hear that little sweetie use the word shyster like it's the queen mother of all dirty words.

Maude threw a WorkerBee out of her apartment over the weekend. Maude's family has asked that we give her assistance with bathing, but apparently Maude disagrees that she needs help. She told WorkerBee "I'm getting ready to turn 98 years old! Don't you think I know how to have a bath!?" She has a point.

In Running News: Even with all the company we had last week, I still managed to have a 24-mile week, with half of that mileage coming from a 12-miler on Saturday. The weather looks as though it will be cooperative for some nice runs this week, too. I spontaneously registered for a half marathon on the 28th (Hubby always runs it as a Boston trainer), it's a tiny little race...but should be a great training opportunity. I'm excited about the possibility of this race helping my performance at the Mini on May 2. I've never run a half before the Mini, so I'm hoping it speeds me up a bit. I'd sure love a PR....

That's all!

You don't say?

Today, Maude said she had "the trickles."

It is always interesting.

Trivial Tuesday

It's a hectic week as my regional director is here from the Home Office. I haven't had much time to spend with residents, but this morning 98-year-old Maude sought me out to let me know she needed to cancel her doctor's appointment. Why? Because she "can't piss first thing in the morning." Aha. Thanks for sharing.

And moving on to something similar in sound.....thanks for the "psssst," Haley, 'cuz I don't know when I might have had time to notice this week. So the following meme is brought to you because Haley said I would probably fill it out and well, because my genetic composition simply will not allow me to let anyone down! Besides, it is a little fun, right? Right?

1. Five names I go by: Carrie, Care, Carebear (why am I even telling anyone that?), Aunt Cockie
2. Three things I'm wearing right now: rings, slippers, fleece
3. Two things I want very badly at the moment: someone else to make dinner, for Vicky to not be the Biggest Loser
4. Three people who will probably fill this out: Sarah, Che, Amy
5. Two things I did last night: spent way too much time making a photobook on Shutterfly, cleaned the kitchen
6. Two things I ate today: monster cookies (damn damn damn), vegetable soup
7. Two people I last talked to on the phone: Hubby and some random vendor who called as I was leaving the office
8. Two things I'm going to do tomorrow: work my head off at work and then wrap fondant around cherries when I get home so they are ready to be dipped on Thursday
9. Two longest car rides: driving to Disney World with both siblings in the backseat of a 2-door Mercury Lynx and driving to Toronto with Hubby
10. Two favorite beverages: water and wine

Oh My Maude

Friday morning at breakfast, Lois got to the dining room a little late. WorkerBee showed her to an empty seat at the table where Maude always sits. If you haven't yet read about Maude, be sure to read this post. And just to make it even more clear how much Maude dislikes any change at "her" table, then be sure to read this one, too.

So anyway, Lois (who has dementia and usually doesn't even realize where she is) takes one look at the table and says to WorkerBee very matter-of-factly: "I'm not sitting here if that old bitch is coming." Very hilarious, but Maude did not come to breakfast and all was well.

About an hour ago Rock Ridge called "just to let me know" about what happened during lunch today. Apparently Lois was feeling more comfortable about sitting at Maude's table since she enjoyed breakfast there on Friday. Today, however, when she tried to sit at the table Maude told her she couldn't. When Lois didn't move, Maude picked up her glass of water and slammed it onto the table shattering it into bits and spilling the contents all over the place. The whole episode delayed lunch by about 15 minutes. Which means all the rest of the residents were probably pissed off, too.

Glad I'm at home today.

Sticks and Stones

Apparently a resident tried to sit in the wrong seat at Maude's table yesterday. Just to be clear, we still do not have assigned seats or tables. No, this makes no difference to Maude.

Maude looked right at the perpetrator and told her she couldn't sit in that seat. And just for good measure she added "you bug-eyed old bag!"

Fork You

Just like church, the dining room pretty much sees the same people sitting in the same places every day. There are no assigned seats here. Which I (perhaps mistakenly) tell each new Resident who moves in.

So New Resident decides to sit at "Maude's Table." Let me reiterate...THERE ARE NO ASSIGNED SEATS. There are no assigned tables. First come, first served. Sit wherever the hell you want. That kind of thing.

So, New Resident takes a seat. Maude comes to the table and proceeds to have a hissy fit that any two-year-old who wants candy at the check-out lane of the grocery store would admire. I try to calm Maude down, explaining that this is New Resident's first day here, and let's try to make her feel welcome, yadda yadda yadda, while pulling out a chair adjacent to New Resident for Maude to take a seat. Which she does.

Then, with as much hate as a pissed off 98-year-old white-haired lady can muster, she picks up her fork. She looks right at me. And sends the fork flying right at my head.