Showing posts with label bonding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bonding. Show all posts

Sunday, November 22, 2015

Rooty Toot Toot

A warning for delicate ears: Bodily toots are being mentioned on today's post. (giggle)

Yesterday, I wrote  how I forgot the topic about which I wanted to write. Well, it came to mind last night when I saw a cartoon that a friend posted on Facebook. Thanks, Thomas.

So, here's what I couldn't remember yesterday. (giggle)

I'm one of those people whose body systems get all relaxed when she wanders around a bookstore. The moment I enter the door, total zen. Unfortunately for those around me, I'm one of those book browsers who not only gives the occasional loud ah! when she sees an interesting book cover, but also an occasional silent toot, leaving a lingering aroma. I try not to, but, hey better out than in.

Sorry for the TMI, but it's to set you up for this next paragraph. (snort)

The future-Husband and my first adventure included a visit to a used bookstore in his neighborhood. I have no idea if the shop still exists. I hope it's still there. It's a grand store and not solely because the future-Husband brought me there. Way in the back of the store (giggle), I came across a sign pointing to a corner nook. It was the first time I'd ever seen a sign like it in a bookstore (giggle). Or any business, for that matter. I don't recall the precise words (snort). It went something like this—FART HERE

The future-Husband and I were meant to be. 

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Communication Between the Mama and Me

Bilingual, I am not.

A bilingual person is someone who is fluent in two languages. I'm one of those second generation kids (in any immigrant group) who can understand their parents' language but cannot speak it. Oh, sure, I can say some phrases in Ilocano, the Mama's language,  such as, uh, Awan ti nakkem mo which means "There's nothing in your head." Something the Mama said to me often when I was a kid.

The Husband tells me it's strange to listen to the Mama's and my conversations. She says something in Ilocano and I respond in English. I say something to her in English and she responds in Ilocano. Most times, I don't even realize she's talking to me in Ilocano.  I suppose you could say we are having a bilingual conversation, just that neither of us are bilingual.

There are times when I can't figure out what the Mama wants. It's not because of the language difference, but because of the Mama's unique thinking process. She assumes that I am thinking the same way. For instance:

"Get me some onions," The Mama orders me in Ilocano.

"Where are they?" I ask in English.

"Idiay," she says.

The word idiay means over there. But, where is over there? It may take several rounds of back and forth before she finally identifies idiay as being over there in the garage.

Now, if she were to respond in English, she would say, "Down below."

In our house, "down below" could mean the garage, a cupboard under the sink, or the vegetable bin in the refrigerator.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Socks, Lovely Socks

I drew socks the other day because I bought some socks for the Mama and me. They are just as colorful as the ones in the picture. The Husband bought socks, too. He was the instigator, which meant he needed socks and the Mama must have forgotten to give him socks for Christmas. Actually, it was more like she forgot to tell me that she wanted to buy his annual Christmas bunch of socks. I should've remembered, but I haven't been good in that department either.

A couple weeks ago, I forgot about the Mama's doctor appointment. At least, I remembered the following day and called the doctor's office. We went on Friday for his five-minute examination to make sure she is still ticking. Yup, she is indeed. Her blood count actually went up,  and her blood pressure is that of a spring chicken. The Mama also gained a pound. She'd been losing a pound every four months for the past two years so I was very happy to hear the nurse say she was 110. The Mama's reaction. "I'm eating too much." Yeah, right. What she is doing is eating regular servings of food more than usual. And, now that it's summer, she's snacking on fresh fruit more. Yay, fresh fruit!

Every day, the Mama comes in with a couple of apricots that have dropped from up high. As she hands them to me, I make a mental note to go with the Husband to look up high into the tree to see where the apricots are hiding. Of course I forget. As I'm writing this I now remember that I planned to prune the butterfly bush yesterday afternoon. All I can say is that last night I finally cooked the eggplants, okra, and leftover roasted chicken into a stew for dinner.

Let me get back to the subject of socks. I can't remember the last time I bought an article of clothing for myself, unless the Mama's Christmas clothing gift for me counts. She gave me a cute pleated denim blouse that we both agreed look nice on me. Our tastes in clothes are quite different. She likes structured, tailored clothes while I like mine free and flowing. This bunch of socks amazingly had styles and colors that match our tastes.

The Mama told me to pick my socks first, but I said nope to that. Making choices is difficult for her, even picking socks. But, she did it, with Molly the Cat watching intently. The Mama gave me the socks I like, which were the orange and blue colored socks. I knew she would like the red and black colored ones.

Molly the Cat? She only wear socks in my imagination. Though, maybe she wouldn't mind wearing socks upon her dainty paws, especially when she's traipsing around the Mama's boxes of sprouting vegetables. Maybe then she wouldn't leave evidence of having been where she is not supposed to be. The other day, the Mama asked Molly, "Was that you who pulled the flowers off the eggplants?"  Molly the Cat merely walked away, without saying a mew. I wonder if she'd like to wear a sock on her swishy tail.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Molly the Cat, One Year Later

Molly the Cat aka Molly the Kitty Cat aka Miss Molly by Golly. These days, she's also known as Molly Girl. Last week was her first anniversary with the crew. We, humans, had no idea it would be such a pleasure to have a cat that lives indoors. We hope the sweetie pie is just as happy as we are about living together.

Molly Girl plays no favorites. She adores the Husband. He is the one who plays with her before giving her dinner. She likes me because I am the human who mostly takes her outside to wander and offer her a snack at lunch time. And, she cherishes the Mama because this human massages her and gives Molly food to break her fast every morning.

The Two Ladies
Molly the Cat and Mama are so cute together. After a year, I see similarities between the two ladies.

Both are picky eaters. Unless they feel ravenous or truly like the food in front of them, they'll leave just a little less than half on their plate. Will they eat the leftovers the next day? Ha!

They like to snuggle together on the couch in front of the TV. The Mama beneath the fleece blankets, Molly on top. Both eventually fall into a deep sleep, snoring away.

Their favorite spot to sit—when not watching TV—is by the sliding door where they can soak up the sun bubbles. Mama reads, while Molly spreads out by her feet.

Molly and the Mama get a bit discombobulated when the daily routine (meaning meals) is disrupted. This is usually when the Husband and I "run away" for the day.

"Outside please." The two ladies love being outdoors, even when it's chilly. The Mama likes to work the land and Molly the Cat likes to explore the land that the Mama has worked.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Mama and the Leaves

My strategy used to be: Wait until all the leaves have fallen off the trees and then gather them up. Sure, it would be one murder of a day, raking and bagging literally tons of leaves....I say literally because obviously tons of leaves do not fall from less than a dozen trees. Maybe, thousands of leaves, but then I would just say that and not "literally thousands of leaves" because there are thousands of leaves on the ground. Yes, I think people overuse the word literally.

Okay, back to leaf-gathering strategies. The Mama's strategy: Pick up leaves every morning. Depending on the season, it may take her less than 30 minutes to several hours before she is satisfied that her garden is neat. The Mama dislikes the sight of leaves on the ground. She actually grumbles and shudders when she passes people's yards that are full of leaves. "If that was mine," she always says. "I wouldn't stand it." The husband or I usually respond, "Look away."

The Mama is a neat freak when it comes to her gardens. She also sweeps out there. The Mama has pretty much swept the top soil away between her rows. I gave up years ago trying to convince her that she wants to use the "mess" she sweeps as mulch. "See, look, it's already making soil," I'd say, letting the dirt fall through my fingers. "Hmmph," she'd say, pushing her broom.

People are impressed with how smooth and clean the garden pathways are. You can eat off the ground in the Mama's garden. Literally.  Or, would that be figuratively?

When the Mama was in the hospital this summer, I went out and raked leaves every day. That way she wouldn't shudder when she first looked out the window. More importantly, she wouldn't feel compelled to go out there and start raking. And, she would.

Twenty-some years ago, the Mama was in a horrible car crash. So terrible that the first responders used the Jaws of Life to pry her out of her car. Then she was flown by helicopter to the emergency department at the Stanford Hospital, which was 60 miles or so away. The first responders were concerned by all the blood that they saw around the car, but it turned out that the blood was from the butchered pig in the trunk, which the Mama and her brother had  slaughtered at a nearby ranch. Fortunately, both of them just had the wind knocked out of them.

While the Mama stayed overnight in the hospital, I made arrangements for her cousin to stay with her until she got better. Ha! Instead of her cousin taking care of her, the Mama was taking care of her cousin because, after all, her cousin was a guest in her home.  So, I learned. Even sick or injured, the Mama will do what the Mama wants to do or believes she must do.

It has been raining lately. The backyard is too muddy to get to the leaves to rake. Not that the Mama hasn't tried. I have found footprints in the mud. At first, I thought the neighbor's son had climbed over the back fence again. Nope, it was the Mama's footprints. That goodness the Mama can't stand walking in mud. For her, that's worse than seeing leaves all over the place.

But, you know, I'm itching to rake the mess of leaves, too.  I've come around to the Mama's strategy. That's right, I enjoy the time raking leaves in the morning before breakfast. It's zen. It's instant gratification of accomplishment. It's more bonding with the Mama.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved.

Monday, March 12, 2012

10 Things I Did Not Know about Cats

Since Molly the Cat came into our lives, I did not know that:
  1. Cats snore.
  2. Cats sleep on their backs with their arms and legs splayed out. Yeah, just like a drunken person.
  3. Cats like to have something to eat after having been brushed.
  4. Cats don't necessarily know how nor inclined to say meow to their humans. Molly the Cat chirrups when she talks to us.
  5. Cats will wait until you clean up their litter box, then jump into it immediately and do their thing. I always thank Molly the Cat for doing it before I throw the poop bag away.
  6. Cats will suddenly race around the house after something that only they can see. They run so fast, you think you can see lines of action, such as those drawn in cartoons, extending from them as they shoot down the hallway and take the corner almost in mid air.
  7. Cats will pretend to wait for your permission to go explore that dark corner between the couches just to make you feel that you are the boss. Ha!
  8. Cats are even pickier eaters than the Mama. We have at least four opened cans of cat food (high quality, according to some self-appointed experts) that she sniffed, and looked at me, as if saying, "Are you kidding? Have you tasted this yuck?" Thank goodness, we can return the cans, opened or not, to the store for a refund. We've already brought back four cans.
  9. Cats will leave you alone while you're working on the computer late into the early morning, as long as they can sleep on the comfy chair, with the pristine pink rose brocade covering, behind you.
  10. Cats are soooooo fun to hang out with.
Of course, all that I learned may just apply to Molly the Cat. Fine with me.

© 2012 Su-sieee! Mac. All rights reserved. 

Monday, February 13, 2012

Any Day Can Be Christmas

Yesterday was like Christmas.

After eight-and-a-half years, I finally opened some boxes marked KITCHEN that belong to the Husband and me. There was stuff I forgot we had. When we moved in with the Mama, most of our belongings stayed in storage. Last month, we consolidated two lockers into one and I decided to bring home some of the KITCHEN boxes. Until late yesterday afternoon, they'd been sitting in the garage. They would probably still be there if we didn't move boxes around to try to find a mouse carcass. Shudder.

We did not find any mouse remains, but we did discover that something ate through the cat carrier—which we had bought to eventually take Mr. L. Gatto Cat to the veterinarian (and it's a good thing we didn't)—to get at the bag of cat litter that we'd stored in the carrier. Was the mouse disappointed when he finally reached the sand?

"Do mice hibernate?" the Husband asked.

"I don't know," I replied, watching him poke a stick in the bag.  Shudder.

Back to happy thoughts. Christmas in February.

By the time I was ready to go through the boxes in the kitchen, the Mama had waken from her nap. The Mama loves opening presents as well as seeing what comes out of unopened boxes and bags that belong to others. She got as excited  as I did. The Husband would say differently because she didn't ooh! and ahhh! like me.

"My pyrex pie pans!" (which were originally the Mama's). The Mama hovered over the box.

"Those are nice," said the Mama, glancing at each different size covered glass jar that I set on the table. I could see she was already thinking what to put in them.

"Oh, that's pretty," she said, when I set down a crystal candy jar. Maybe I will make chocolate cherry almond truffles to put in it for Valentine's Day.

Then out came a large bag full of our spoons, knives, forks, and chop sticks. The Mama sat down and began sorting them into categories of her own making. She instantly recognized the design of the ones that she had given me and the first husband over 25 years ago. I think she was pleased that I had kept them.

As the Mama made her piles, I wondered if any of the spoons would be perfect to use for playing music. Other than that I had no idea what to do with all that silverware. Was I ready to get rid of them all? Then the Mama said, "We can use these."


The Mama decreed that we'll be using the Husband's and my silverware from now on. No discussion. No asking me for permission. I don't even think she thought that I may not want to use them. Of course, I didn't even think about that fact until just now. I was surprised  that she wanted to use our stuff. Not just make room for them in her silverware drawer, but to actually get rid of some of hers. Or, at least put hers in storage.

I definitely appreciate it. It'll be nice, satisfying, and delightful to use our silverware and some of our other kitchen stuff again. I  may get the rest of the KITCHEN boxes out of storage sooner rather than later. Then the Mama and I will have another day of Christmas. Wait till she sees the blue willow plates. I just know she'll want to eat off of them.