SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2010

When I woke up this morning at 9 no one was up. When I headed out the door at 10:30, Carol was doing her usual make coffee-smoke a couple cigarettes routine. Tom was no where to be found. When I got home at 2:30 Carol was still in her pajama robe and Grandpa was missing, although she said he had be up and about today. I went to my room to work on some stuff for work. At 5ish I starting on dinner and Carol was standing staring off into space in the kitchen. I asked her if she was OK, and she said she didn't think so. We chatted about my day and MauMau for awhile while I made chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans. Grandpa came out and we all sat down to dinner and he starting asking me his questions, i.e. "Do you come everyday?" ("yes, I've been living here for 2 months) and then "So do you usually go home for dinner?" ("I, um? My home is in Minneapolis where my mom, Jeanne Femrite, lives"), "That's my daughter" ("That's my mom, which makes you my Grandfather"). Grandpa finished half his meal and then got up to find something to put it in. He stood at the cabinet for awhile and turned away from his mission. Then he went to the fridge, poured some milk into a coffee mug that was inexplicably sitting in the fridge, and took out the corn muffins. "Wait, Tommy, wait a second," said Carol, and I thought she was going to tell him to finish the meal still sitting on the table if he was still hungry, but instead she got him another plate for his corn muffin. I don't know. I starting cleaning up and Carol told me all about my Great Grandpa Slick and the prohibition. I've heard about him, but this was a good conversation because it seemed like a normal conversation that you would have with your Granddaughter, minus the gambling and boozing. Of course, Grandpa kept interrupting to tell us every time MauMau switched his position- "Now look at this, he wants his pets... do you see this now?... Do you think he wants to go outside?" My cat is the source of most of our conversations... the good one at least. Grandpa got up from his chair and put his mug of milk that was originally in the fridge, into the cabinet (milk still in it). I asked him to wait a second to go in because he hadn't had his medicine. He looked at the pills and realized that there were 6 pills there instead of 5 (we added the anti-depression medicine a few weeks ago, although I don't see a difference). I told him the 6th pill was a vitamin he and Dr Bob decided on a few weeks ago to make the other pills easier on his stomach (such a liar). He went and sat down for a while longer, and must have decided against the pills because when he got up and went in, they were still there. So, of course I had to bring them in to him. Otherwise, I've just been cleaning and doing laundry today. Productive, calm Sunday.