Funny things in California

BratzBasher and I are in very sunny California, staying with Grandma while my parents are in Europe for a couple of months.  I’m only doing a two-week shift, though.  My oldest sister is relieving me next week.  We’ll visit for a couple of days before she sends me home.

Meanwhile, I’ve learned Grandma’s schedule and all the work that taking care of the folks’ home entails.  Gosh their house is a lot of work.  I still need to go out and pick fruit in the backyard.  There are a gazillion apricots.  I’ve been given a couple of numbers of people who’d be willing to come pick them, but nobody has taken me up on the offer so far.  The only one of us that really enjoys them is Grandma.  My stepmom loves them — especially when they’re made into jam, but the freezer in the garage has a ton of frozen apricots and apricot jam.  I think she ought to consider giving that away, too.  At least clean out her supply before the next crop comes in.

The thing I really don’t like, though, is cleaning up after the cats.  I have to do the litter box today.  Don’t need the reminder of why I’m glad Michael’s allergic to the creatures, but it can’t be avoided.  Speaking of the cats, one of them brought a present into the house yesterday morning.  You’ll never guess what it was, so I’ll tell you.  It was a dead bat.  Gee, how thoughtful of them.  I disposed of it (without touching it, of course), but BratzBasher wouldn’t acknowledge either cat for the rest of the day.  She loves bats, and this one was particularly cute — despite being dead.  I pointed out that it was extremely unlikely that either cat actually contributed to the demise of the bat, but she didn’t care.

The cat’s only access point to the backyard is located in the master bedroom.  I’ve been instructed to leave the door slightly ajar so that they can come and go as they please.  There’s also a cat flap in the garage door so that they can get to the food, water, and litter box.  Digger, the younger cat, has shut the door to the master bedroom a couple of times.  He has to do it from the inside.  He’s locked Pirate out once, and locked the both of them in overnight.  I now check that door on a regular basis to make sure it’s still open.

As for Grandma, she has a rigid schedule, beginning with an 8 am walk up and down the street.  She has her schedule all typed up on a piece of paper, telling her what pills to take when and what snacks she likes to eat when — not to mention her two TV shows (Let’s Make a Deal and The Price is Right) and 8 pm games with whoever’s in the house.  Last night, we played Bendominoes.  When she’s not snacking or watching TV, she does her word search puzzles and roams the house killing flies.  There’s a chicken farm at the end of the street, and there are tons of flies in the area.  Some of them inevitably end up in the house.  Grandma’s armed with her flyswatter 24/7.  We often hear her in the bathroom, swatting flies and singing hymns to herself.  It’s kind of funny.

I cook two dinners every day because Grandma eats hers at 3:00, and BB and I prefer to wait until a more reasonable hour.  I’ve cooked more this past week and a half than I have in the past two months, I think.  Figured out how to make homemade hamburgers and fries last night.  BB didn’t keel over from food poisoning, so it’s all good.  I made up a menu for the week so that I wouldn’t have to figure out what to fix — plus it helps with the grocery shopping.

BB was appalled when she saw the spice cupboard.  The one we have at home is huge and still doesn’t hold all of our options.  I’ve learned that Merkin is a cook with an unusually large repertoire of recipes.  We’ve made do with what there is here.  I think the real annoyance is the cooking utensils.  I’ve been spoiled by Merkin’s collection.  I miss his silicone spatulas and pancake flippers that actually have the entire handle intact.  Both of the ones in this kitchen are broken to stubs.  It’s almost comical.  I think I’ll add a couple of things to the kitchen before I go.  I’m also putting them on the Do Not Call registry.  I’m surprised they aren’t already on it, but they obviously aren’t — they get way too many telemarketing calls — almost as many as the catalogs that come in the mail every day.

Merkin got me a new phone before we left MO.  I’m getting used to it.  It’s a smart phone, but it’s apparently not smart enough to notify me when I have an upcoming appointment.  I’ve programmed it to remind me, but it never does.  Maybe Merkin can figure it out when we get back.

I guess it’s lunchtime now.  I should feed the kid.

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About foo4luv

I'm a married, bum-around-the-house mom with one child, BratzBasher, who is the only thing in the universe cuter than a bunny nose. I enjoy reading, crafts, sewing unusual Halloween costumes, and taking long walks through Jo-Ann. View all posts by foo4luv

One response to “Funny things in California

  • storytellermary

    Perhaps a food pantry would like some apricots . . .
    Also allergic to cats, and when I read of mischief and “presents” and litter boxes I feel less deprived. I think that door needs some device to keep it from closing all the way . . .

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