About me

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Buck's Birthday Biscuits

Last Sunday, Bro and I discovered that we were two days late for Buck's birthday, not one week ahead. I called Buck, sang Happy Birthday, did not pay the royalty, and scheduled to take them dinner the following Tuesday.

We planned for 5, and I reached the Bojangle's at 40 and 42 at 4:30. Ten snausage and five butter biscuits later, I'm sitting in the traffic that is the nightmare of no zoning there, wishing the Johnston County Commissioners were staked in the middle of the road.

The truth is the citizenry there love those commissioners, and would be more likely to stake me out in the road.

So the phone starts ringing. Samo and Bro arrived early, and now wonder where I am and when will I be there. Apparrantly, talking to Mama and Buck is taking it's toll quickly.

I finally get there, and join the convo being held in the driveway. I'm not sure Mama recognized me at first, but she soon figured it out. Of course, Buck has to explain about the poor hay crop across the road. Again.

We go in and settle down at the table. It's 5. Mama's getting water for some of us. The others are having tea. Mama has a leftover cup of water in the fridge.

Now she's getting us plates. Paper plates. I don't know why. The plates are stained from previous use. They are now reusing paper plates, which also saves on water and detergent.

I point out that I'm OK with using the biscuit wrapper.

We're eating in silence. I ask Buck a question. Now, we're talking. Mama chimes in. Soon, we have two independent conversations going on.

Of course, Mama revisits the same three questions iteratively. She's also smitten with the trees by the creek.

Towards 5:30, it's over. Buck's going on about the hay. Mama's reminding me to call them if I need anything. She's worried that I'm going to Baltimore tomorrow. Bro and Samo are pulling onto the road.

One hour later, I'm back on the couch, thinking I should run an analysis, knowing I won't, and adding an extra shot of rum to the screwdriver.

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The Crow said...

Man, that makes my heart ache, Jim.

Diane Schabinger said...

I find, with my mom, I do best when I focus on what she can still do... and celebrate that.

It's not easy I know.

My mom does the same thing with paper plates and while I have two full bags of untouched paper cups and paper plates for her - she still saves every plastic cup they give her with water when she takes her medicine. The tall, leaning stack looms by the sink.

We also have enough sugar packets to make a pound cake or two and she still brings more to her room each day. I tell her she doesn't need to keep bringing them, but "they leave them on the table", so save them she will. I think we also have every paper napkin they have ever given her.

We had a bag full of tiny jelly packets but she sent those home with her granddaughter when she visited.. in case the great grandsons need any tiny jelly packets.

I think we are up to about 20 apples in the fridge now, a new one joins them each day.

It's the yogurt and tiny milk cartons that worry me - I have no idea how long they hangs out in the bag on her walker before finally making their way into the fridge. They need a sensor to indicate when they have been at room temperature too long.

I agree with you, biscuit wrappers work nicely. And I'd have to throw it away to make sure it didn't end up being folded beside the stove...

Hang in there!