Day 2 9/2/2007

Unfortunately (for hubby) I woke up with a horrible headache and was unable to go with the group to the mall to get things, so I had a nice relaxing few hours by myself in my house with no interruptions.

Chaos ensued when they got back because they had bought a bunch of things to make with the big salmon we had shipped in. The shipper didn’t filet it like we asked, so we had a whole salmon minus the head, tail and guts to deal with and nobody really had any idea how to filet it, so I ended up doing it thanks to watching Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe and learning all about cutting up fish from one of the episodes. See, tv is educational!

Of course, the kitchen was a mess, M just sat and watched everyone doing everything and didn’t bother to pitch in. I’m sure she was waiting for an invitation, which she typically does. She just won’t help out unless asked, and then will pout if nobody asks her to do anything.

While the food was grilling B starts in on the hometown news, which pretty much consists of everyone that has died and the details of their grisly deaths. OOH, there was this nice young couple that was planning on going on a cruise and the day of the cruise the husband died of a cerebral hemorrhage. And you remember that nice family down the block, well they died in a horrible car wreck, etc.

We also got treated to a rehash of their miserable flight, miserable food, miserable customer service, and then there was the concern that our fax machine wasn’t working because they should have received a fax by now and they couldn’t understand why there were no faxes, and are we sure the fax machine actually works and could you check to see if there were any faxes. Um, no faxes, sorry.

After we ate we decided to go drive around and take pictures for hubby’s camera class. We were treated to M’s discussion of “people that park in front of grocery stores”, at least I think that was the topic, as she tends to talk about nothing, throw in little details that really have nothing to do with the story, and never come to a point. It went something like this: “oh yes, when we go to the store we always park in the designated areas, and usually there isn’t a problem with people parking right in front of the store, but when the working people get off work, you see the stay at home moms and the retired people don’t park in front of the store, its only those working people that do it, so during the day its not a problem and you can walk right into the store, but after those people get off work there’s always cars parked in front of the store, and I asked the manager one time if they could do something about that but this one time there was a car parked there and I went in to get a few things and frankly if you are running in to get some crackers or some dip for a small party you may be attending, you know just to get a bag of chips or something. although if you are going to a party you shouldn’t just bring chips, you should also probably get something else because chips just aren’t enough if one were to be asked to bring something, I generally try to get some dip or other items to bring to those types of things, but anyway I went into the store to grab a few items for this bridge party that we had been invited to, this nice older lady whose husband died a few years back has us over for bridge about once a month and I always try to bring over something nice to share with everyone, so when I went into the store there was this lady there and she had this huge cart full of groceries and I know that had to be her car that was parked in the front, so it wasn’t as if she had just run in to grab something for a party, she had a whole cart full of stuff and by the time I checked out and went back to the car she was still checking out so I know that must have been her car that was sitting in front of the store.”

My head exploded.

So we ended up at this lake and the sun was going down and we were taking pictures of a fountain and some other things and discussing cameras and all that. Out of the blue, M asks me: “Do you carry a flashlight?” “Um, no”. “oh”, she says, and that was that. I have no idea WHY she would ask me if I carry a flashlight, or if she actually needed a flashlight as it was still light out, or why I would possibly need to carry a flashlight, but it seemed very important to her to ask me that.

My head exploded.

On the way home we got to hear about their cell phone issues. Apparently when they were in some small town M got a signal, but B didn’t. Then they would drive a little ways and B would have a signal and M wouldn’t. They had gone to the cell phone provider and asked them why this was, they had the same cell phones, so shouldn’t they get the same signal. Hubby tried to explain the mechanics of cell phones and why that may be possible, but they said that wasn’t the case, even though that was the exact same explanation that they had received from two separate cell carrier customer service people. Ok... yes, my head exploded.

Day 459 9/4/2007

Ok, it just seems that long.

We all woke up and decided to head to the mall and walk around. We actually wanted to hit the Apple store for a reason, but we figured a nice mall walk would waste some time. Hubby announces that we need to get ready to go to the mall.

I shower.
J showers.
Hubby showers.
M and B are already dressed.

I say I’m ready.
J says that he’s ready.
Hubby says that he’s ready.
M says she needs to go change her shoes.
B says that he needs to go change his pants.

Fifteen minutes later they emerge from the bedroom.
I’m ready
J’s ready
hubby is ready
Now B has to go downstairs for something.
M is wandering around the house with her purse.

Another fifteen minutes pass, no B, I go look for him, he’s standing at the doorway waiting.
I round everyone up, M has a last minute need to go into the guestroom and another 10 minutes pass.

It took us an hour to get them ready after we told them we were ready.

We drive to the mall and get the traveling tour “oh look, a horse farm, that’s a big horse farm, how many horses are on that farm?” We don’t know. “What do they do with those horses?” We don’t know. “Oh look, its the Renaissance Festival, do they have that every year?” Yes. “Is all that traffic going west bound people coming back from the shore?” We don’t know. “That’s a lot of cars, I’m sure its people coming back from the shore” Sure, fine, its people coming back from the shore. “I think there would be more cars than that if people are coming back from the shore.” Ok, sure, whatever.

Get to the mall, walk in and go straight to Starbucks (of course). We’re in line, M and B are standing outside of the store in front of a line of people wanting to order. I tell the counter person that we’re all together and order, hubby orders, J orders and then motions for his parents to come up and order. M walks up to the second cashier and announces that we’re all together, and then just stands there, blocking the second line. We tell her to order. She ponders, still standing in the second line blocking the line. We tell her to move over to let others order, she gets snitty and orders. Then B rushes up and insists on paying, so we go stand in the waiting for drinks line. B pays for the drinks and walks over to us, M is now standing in the 1st line blocking people, we tell her to move over, she gets snitty.

Get our drinks and walk over to the Apple store, find the piece of software that we want. M goes and sits outside of the store while J and I try to convince B that he needs to buy a Mac. He’s infamous for taking Windows computers and totally hosing them up on a monthly basis.

We get our software and then walk down the mall. As usual, we’re all in front and B and M are lagging about 300 feet behind us. We slow down, they slow down. We stop to let them catch up and they stop. Its maddening and we’re all three bitching about their annoying habit, turn around and they’re gone. J walks back to find them, they’ve darted into a store and when they see J walking back, they scurry out. He asks them if they were done browsing and they insist that they don’t need anything. We continue our slow walk down the mall.

We stop at Borders to look around, I scurried off to some section to get away from everyone, so it was pretty much a mad flee to escape them. I get a text that they’re leaving after a while, so I come down and they are all gathered near the entrance, B and M are blocking the entrance, so we move them along so people can get into the store. Once again, the maddening crawl toward where we park, except this time we stopped to make fun of something, and M takes off down the mall. She’s really hauling, with a purpose, heading for something. I guessed correctly that she was heading for the Godiva kiosk and sure enough she stops there and picks up some chocolates. Now, we were going to pass this kiosk on the way back, so we have no idea why she didn’t just walk with us down the mall and then say “Oh, I’d like to stop and buy something here” and we’d wait for her, she just takes off down the mall without us.

We ended up waiting for her anyway, then we made them walk in front of us the rest of the way back.

Once loaded in the SUV we headed to a shopping plaza and got more Starbucks, then headed to the Whole Foods for stuff to grill that night. It took them 40 questions before they understood that Whole Foods was an organic store, and I really had no idea where they shipped their produce from, even though they asked me 14 times. “Do they ship it from California?” I don’t know. “Berries are out of season, so where do they ship their berries from?” I don’t know.

B and I got into line because he insisted on paying, M stood in front of the exit, blocking people from leaving, J and hubby went outside to get out of the way and have nervous breakdowns. The cashier wasn’t particularly slow or anything, and yet as we left, M announced extremely loudly “was she in training, is that why she’s so slow”. I scurried outside with the bag.

We go home. “So, do they race those horses at the horse farm?” I don’t know.

They get a phone call on their cell, its the guy that’s suppose to fax them stuff for their golf tournament. For the 500th time we give them our fax number, and hubby preps the computer to receive faxes. A half hour passes. An hour passes, no faxes. Just as hubby was about to install the new software on his computer, the phone rings, yep, the faxes. Except the guy can’t hit the send button or who knows what, so for the next two hours the phone rings off the hook while this moron tries to send the faxes, and we can’t call him back to explain AGAIN to just hit the send button when the phone picks up because he’s speed dialing the number to send the faxes. The guy finally gets through and figures out to hit the send button, and we get one fax. Then he calls again to send another fax. Um, shove all of the paper in and send multiple pages... but no, he’s sending one page, hanging up, dialing, sending another page, etc. Each time he tries to send, he seems to forget to hit the freakin send button. M is getting more and more flustered with each ring of the phone, and hubby says “I should just have me grab the faxes downstairs instead of letting the computer pick it up since the guy can’t figure it out”. M immediately runs and tells B that I have the faxes downstairs. I hear someone coming down the stairs, and then go back up the stairs. Meanwhile I’ve grown tired of the constantly ringing phone, so I just intercept the freakin faxes downstairs without realizing what hubby had said. So I walk upstairs with a fax as hubby is explaining to M that I wasn’t getting faxes downstairs but I could if he asked me to. I hand her the fax and she gets this pompous look on her face and says something like “well, I guess they were going downstairs after all” and I grabbed hubby before he could strangle her.

Once again they have salmon and we picked up a steak for me at Whole Foods because I don’t like fish. We’re outside on the deck having a pleasant discussion about nothing in general, wind power I think (good lord) and the food is ready.

I eat my steak with ketchup. Apparently this is not acceptable in the world, despite the fact that people throws A-1, Heinz 57, seared and braised, seasoning and all sorts of manner of other condiments on a steak and that’s perfectly fine. I eat mine with ketchup, have for 40 some years. Frankly I’m a bit sick of people commenting on it, I don’t bitch at them for putting butter on their baked potato, so leave me the F alone. Yes, B makes some snide comment about “ruining” my steak with ketchup. I look at him and say “well, since I pay the mortgage for this house I’ll eat whatever I damn well want on my steak in my own house or anywhere I want actually”. I wanted to say something to the effect that if I felt compelled to wipe my butt with the steak and eat it, its none of his damn business, but toned it down a bit.

After we had all eaten, I went and sat in the kitchen because I knew B and M would follow me there instead of standing in the computer room while J and hubby played their computer game. I had hoped to cull B away from M so I could ask him about his exploding heart that he keeps inferring throughout his visit that this would be the last visit, and I won’t have to worry about that next year because I’ll be DEAD, you know, little hints that something is up but they won’t tell you. It was a battle of wills because M plopped herself down at the table and we had a nice little chat about the seafood place where if you get there before 6pm and order you can get the special:

Well, if you get there before 6pm then you get this wonderful special for 16 dollars and it comes with an appetizer, a salad, then you get 6 shrimp (pronounced srimp) and a small steak and you get dessert, which is absolutely wonderful and there’s some times that we’ll go in there and not be very hungry so we’ll just get one special and I’ll have the srimp and B will have the steak and that’s plenty of food for us, but other times we’ll go and both get the special and then there’s plenty of leftovers (which probably reside in her purse until she’s ready to eat it) to take home and have a very nice meal on those leftovers.

I got to hear how that place bought another piece of land and they’re building a steak house so instead of surf and turf, I’m sure it’ll be turf and surf on the menu (ha ha), and how they weren’t that impressed with some of the new hamburger places and how others just rave about them, but they don’t like the hamburgers there and they think the other hamburger place is so much better. On and on and on and on.

FINALLY M announced that she was going to bed, so I hijacked B to ask him what the scoop was on his exploding heart. The gist is that he’s had several stents put in, and the doctors told him that he had 1-2 years and then things could go bad. This month is the one year anniversary of that announcement, so B feels that at any moment he’ll keel. Ok, so I ask him what he wanted to do with the remaining time and shouldn’t he be doing more to tell his sons how proud of them he is, etc. Well, he wants to help more people, but he doesn’t, and he wished he had done things differently so that his sons could have better lives (um... ok... gee thanks), and generally it was a whole bunch of coulda, woulda, shoulda swimming in lake me and his sons are miserable and aren’t as successful as he’d like because he didn’t take the garbage out on thursdays instead of wednesdays or some stupid crap. In a nutshell, it was pretty much a whole bunch of woe and wishing, but no effort on his part to do anything about it.

He also wished that they would be more interested in the heirlooms that they had, and he was worried that the lamps that his father had given him would end up in the “wrong hands”. Um, excuse me? He didn’t want to give them to J because his wife would give them to her sister and he didn’t want her sister to have them. Um... are ya kidding me?

So, in a nutshell, B is more worried about his heirlooms going to the right place than he is that his sons are worried about him, or that they are happy and successful. He doesn’t think they’re happy or successful enough. Good lord. How do you deal with that?

The Last Day 9/4/2007

Having stayed up with B most of the night while he bemoaned his past mistakes being the cause of everything from global warming to the end of the earth as we know it, I tried to sleep in but the dogs insisted that I get up. It was at that point that I started to sneeze uncontrollably, so I figured it was just allergies and took some minor allergy pills and hoped for the best. I hid downstairs and blew my nose a lot.

You know its bad when their flight doesn’t leave until 5pm and hubby is pushing them out the door around 11:30am to go to lunch so they won’t be late to the airport. We drove to Bob Evans and sat down. After our late night talk, I expected B to be a little more forthcoming with talking to his sons... ok, I didn’t, they’ll never change, and sure enough he was fixated on some old barn that was across from the restaurant. I just love (no, actually it drives me nuts) how they dissect each and every little bit of everything, as if they are experts in everything from the workmanship of old barns to super highways.

As we waited for our food, my nose started to run uncontrollably and I started feeling worse and worse. I wanted to shove napkin up my nose to keep it from running, but refrained as I’m sure that would have disturbed M, who chit chatted with me about pumpkin pie.

We ate, we talked about absolutely nothing at all, and since we had another hour before we had to get to the airport, off we went to Starbucks. By now I wanted to curl up on the curb and die, even the soothing iced venti three pump mocha didn’t help me. As we still had an HOUR before we had to get to the airport, hubby drives us over to Best Buy. A woman that was obvious in a huge hurry pulled in beside us and got out even though we had parked first. She ran into the store. We go into the store, and apparently she needed to buy a DVD in a hurry. That was a 20 minute speculation conversation about why she needed the DVD in a hurry, ranging from rushing to a dying friend whose last wish was to see this movie, to a myriad of other things. I stood in a corner and tried not to drip on anything.

The car ride to the airport consisted of the following questions:
Why are cars parked on that side of the street?
Why does Northrup Grumman have such a big building near the airport?

B started to complain about the golf tournament software that he had and how difficult it was to use. M chimed in (because she knows everything) and gave us an example of why it was so hard. She explained that if you had a whole bunch of people, for instance... and then she starts naming like 50 people! Well, she was inputting their names one by one... and then she goes through the list of names again! But lately she found a button that says include all, so she didn’t have to include all the names... AND NAMES THE PEOPLE AGAIN!

When we parked, they made a note of saying aloud the number of parking spaces per deck... I don’t know why.

So, we’re in the airport and I’m the walking dead and all I want is some heavy duty drugs, which I’m sure they have at one of the airport stores for an arm and a leg, but at this point I don’t care. As we parked 6,000 miles from the check in counter, we had to take two of the moving walkways to get there. THEY STAND ON THE MOVING WALKWAYS!! They don’t walk slowly, they just stand there and typically they stand right in the middle so more sane people in a hurry can’t pass them.

We FINALLY get to the ticket counter and B goes to get the electronic tickets. M stands in the way with her carry on bag, we step WAY out of the way. We sat and watched a line form behind M. Finally someone points out that there is a free kiosk to get tickets. M then goes into great detail that she’s just waiting for her husband as they are flying home to help with a golf tournament, etc. The person just walks away as she’s in mid-explanation. The next person gets in behind her, she doesn’t say anything, finally they point out the free kiosk and she launches into the same explanation, and instead of realizing, “hey, people think I’m waiting” it takes her two more people before she moves BACK a little, same problem. I resisting body slamming her out of the way.

While all of this is going on, the Starbucks napkin (made from the finest chunks of wood pulp) that I’m blowing my nose on has disintegrated, I excuse myself and literally sprint to the news stand and buy kleenex and a small packet of nyquil and dry swallow it.

By the time I get back, they are at the entrance to security, so there are the obligatory good-bye hugs (cold, dead barely touching me hug from M and the “I’m going to die at any moment I’ll never see you again” hug from B) and we waited for them to go through the whole security thing and disappear before sprinting to the car. Freedom to lounge.

We got home and I pretty much slept for the rest of the afternoon in glorious peace and quiet.

Tomorrow I will be purging their extensive amount of left overs that they at least attempted to cover before shoving in the fridge.

October 16 2009 Visit Begins

Out of the blue, a few months ago, the in-laws announced that they would be visiting for the weekend in October. Thankfully unlike last time, this weekend didn’t encompass an entire WEEK, merely arriving on Friday and leaving on Monday morning. We shall see.

As usual, it was like pulling teeth with rusty pliers to get them to give us their itinerary. First it was: arriving at the airport at 4pm. No flight information. Airports are big with lots of exits, so we requested a bit more information like flight # and exact arrival time. That morning we got the information and girded our loins for the arrival.

The dilemma was that M’s birthday was the 9th of October and we had neglected to get her anything. She’s impossible to shop for because she never tells you what she wants, she never discloses any hobbies, she just expects you to know what she’s expecting from you, so generally I go on the Flower sites, put in a dollar range and pick the first thing of flowers or plants on there and “sign” a card and hope that appeases her. Since she’s thousands of miles away, its not too important whether it does or not, she’s not here, so whatever... but now she’s going to be HERE and we even neglected to send flowers.

We discussed the gift card idea. What could go wrong there, give her a gift card of money and she can get whatever she wants, except hubby points out that she would be miffed at that because its the easy way out and doesn’t show a lot of love and caring. My point is that at least its something and if she’s so ungrateful not to accept SOMETHING, then... well, I won’t go into the “then” part.

We didn’t know if she was still sewing with the expensive machine that does embroidery because we hadn’t received any intricate prisonware shirts with huskies on them that she then goes on and on about how much blood, sweat, and tears it took to create (when all she does is load a shirt and hit a button and the machine whips something out). We decide to let them arrive and try to decipher what she wants and get her that. Impossible at best, since with most visits, they never let us know what they really want to do (we just get “we just want to spend time with you both”) until they’re entering the security line of the airport and then they mention how they are really disappointed that they didn’t get to: insert elaborate sightseeing plan here.

The whole weekend is scheduled to be nothing but a humungous rain fest with cold. This means we’re trapped in the house with them unless we drag them to a mall. We do plan to eat out the whole weekend because that will at least get us out of the house, give them the opportunity to talk (which they won’t do, at least nothing substantial like: why they are coming here, because there has to be a reason other than B’s heart about to explode, which he’s mentioned every time they’re here and how this will be the last chance they have to visit prior to the exploding heart thing), and get us away from the house. This also saves us from the “what do you want to eat” game where they say “whatever you want to eat” and then they complain that they can’t eat whatever we’ve fixed.

Hubby was cursing the fact that he should have shaved before we went to the airport. He’s growing a scruffy beard and it wasn’t until we were driving that he realized that his mother would grab his beard and invade his space and make snide comments about it. Sure enough, the moment they get to us at the security exit (they were the LAST off the plane of course) she turns to me and makes a snide comment about his beard and how old he looks. They can’t just say anything nice about anything, always with the snide back-sided comments.

We drag them to Ruby Tuesdays for dinner. While at the salad bar, B sidles up to me as I’m dishing up lettuce and says “maybe you’ll tell me, because he always avoids answering me, so is his buying a motorcycle a mid-life crisis thing?”. Um, no. Vehicles paid off, he’s always wanted another motorcycle since his last one (years and years ago) died, and we’re now in the position to get one. Ya know, instead of saying how great it was that even in this craptastic economy his son was still in a financial position to be able to afford a motorcycle, and how that is a testament of his success or anything, oh no, he chalks it up to a mid-life crisis thing. How quaint. Apparently my answer (which is the same as the one hubby gave him a while ago) wasn’t sufficient and he gave a grunt as if to say that we were in cahoots and prepared our response together to hid something more insidious or something.

We ate, and got to hear ALL about the horrible golf software (see this post for a reminder) the flight (with its crowded seats) and was asked over and over again about the mid-shipmen from the Naval Academy that we saw at the airport. If you recall, they ask us strange questions that there is just no reason for us to know the answers.
“Where do you think that mid-shipman was going at the airport?”
Um, I don’t know
“Do you think he was going to visit his parents?”
Um, I don’t know
“Could he have been going to his new duty station?”
Um, I don’t know
“When do they graduate? Maybe it was some kind of break”
Um, I don’t know

Now how the frick are we suppose to know where some guy is going?

Its Saturday morning and I’m hiding downstairs with one of our dogs, who is recovering from knee surgery and blissfully unaware of the conversation going on upstairs. I just know that early this morning, hubby (who refuses to take pills) has already asked where the major painkillers were hidden and no doubt took too many of them to prepare for the day. When I go up to shower, I’ll be popping some myself. Thankfully I kept some good ones from a surgery a while back, but I’ll save those in case.

Saturday, 17 October 2009

So, Saturday morning I wake up and M is already awake. I go into the kitchen to get some coffee to face the day and there’s a Harley Davidson night light plugged into a kitchen outlet. Hmmm. I’m guessing this is a gift that appeared from nowhere and no I’m suppose to react to it... except in my un-coffeed state I’m not really sure how to approach this new thing. Normally any “gifts” are revealed with great pomp, circumstance, and with a 4 page typed explanation of the significance of the gift, the story of how it was purchased, and what it means to M and B to give it to us... there was no story of the night light.

I choose to ignore it, but mention it to hubby when he wakes up. He said “hmmm” and chose to ignore it too. Finally M happens to scurry into the kitchen when I went in for a refill and I point to the night light and said “pretty”, and then the floodgates of explanation opened up and she apologized that it was cracked (I didn’t notice) and how she thought it would be perfect for the home what with hubby’s recent Harley purchase and blah blah I lapsed into a coma and didn’t listen to anything else. Inside my head I was wondering why, if it had a sensor, it wasn’t turning off, and whether she would be offended if I pulled it out of the socket because I’m not crazy at all about the air freshners you plug into sockets, let alone a light source that doesn’t seem to turn off on its own. I waited until we left before unplugging it surreptitiously.

The weather has totally sucked, which means locked in house, or locked in car, or locked in a mall, so we opted for the wider open spaces of the mall. Since it is raining and B’s heart will explode at any moment, hubby told us to jump out when he pulled up to the mall and he’d park the car. M and I jumped out, but B didn’t... oh brother. So then I was stuck with M while she bitched about how B doesn’t do anything he’s told unless its his idea and how annoying he was and blah blah blah I didn’t hear the rest because I was looking for a mall cop so I could lay in front of the Segway and be run over... there were no mall cops to be seen.

We got Subway sandwiches to eat. M made this whole elaborate thing about folding the paper that her sandwich was wrapped in, and looking up to see if anyone was noticing how she was elaborately folding the paper of the sandwich as if she wanted someone to ask “WTF are you doing?” Nobody did. As a matter of fact, hubby and I have perfected the “oh gawd don’t look at them because they’ll start talking about stupid crap” eye avoidance technique. Hell, I’ll look under the table if it keeps me from hearing about their friend, Mimi, you probably don’t remember her because she moved into the neighborhood 10 years after you graduated and went into the service, but Mimi started this frame shop and she did such a wonderful job on the things we brought in to be framed, as a matter of fact, we brought in this newspaper article reprint and she told us that she had the most lovely frame for it and asked if she could frame it the way she saw it and if we didn’t like it then she would frame it how we wanted it and she did such a lovely job that we just didn’t have the heart to tell her that the frame was about 5 times more than the print, but we just got it anyway because she was so proud of the frame, anyway, she doesn’t work in that store any more“

You are probably thinking to yourself, as we did, A.) that Mimi screwed you out of a ton of money, and B.) WTF was the point of telling us about Mimi?

This would go hand in hand with her saying, out of the blue: ”So you were telling us how much you enjoy watching the Food Channel... well, we watch a show about all of the hot dog and hamburger places there are, and one time they did donuts and they talked all about Krispy Kreme donuts and how great they were and we were suppose to get a Krispy Kreme shop in town and people waited and waited and finally someone went to Spokane, where there was a Krispy Kreme shop and bought some and brought them back, but we didn’t like them, they said they were suppose to be warm, but these were cold and nobody cared for them and it turns out that they never built the Krispy Kreme shop in town“.

A.) NOBODY mentioned anything about watching the Food channel, we never watch the Food channel so I can only imagine that the voices in her head watch it, and B.) Who gives a rat’s ass about Krispy Kreme donuts?

We ended up at Macaroni Grill later that night and there was a huge ”to do“ about the fact that there was a wine on the menu that was labeled a ”Columbia Valley“ wine, but it was actually a ”Walla Walla“ wine and NOT a ”Columbia Valley“ wine and the history of why it wasn’t considered a ”Columbia Valley“ wine... meanwhile the waiter is standing there patiently wishing for death unless we gave him our order so he could wait on the other 50 tables he had.

Somewhere in the meal, M turns to me and says ”Why do you think Michael Jackson put towels over his kids’ heads?“ I.... don’t..... know

Sunday, 18 October 2009

I apologize for not updating the rest of the trip for a while. I was hiding in bed, keening and rocking back and forth from the last few days of the visit, unable to think coherently for a while.

On Sunday it was raining again and we decided to take them on the tour of both Harley Davidson shops in town, just to get them out of the house. Since it was around 11 am, we decided to stop for breakfast and went to the usual Denny's, but there was a line a mile long waiting for a table. We opted to go to the Bob Evans near the airport (and there was some joking about taking them to the airport a day early and they were only half-hearted jokes).

We managed to get some food and had the usual uncomfortable silences and staring off into space to avoid eye contact. M offered her potato soup to everyone at the table... um, no thanks, as she was the only one NOT having breakfast and apparently that miffed her.

On the ride to the Harley stores we were bombarded by the usual strange questions:

"Why doesn't anyone live in that house?" Don't know
"Why are they fixing this road?" Don't know
"How many motorcycles do they sell here?" Don't know
"Are there any eagles here?" There are hawks, and some buzzards. "Oh, buzzards, where are they?" I don't know. "I would think they would have eagles here" um "I wonder why there are no eagles here" (I was going to say they were in Philadelphia, but I'm sure that would have brought on more questions since they wouldn't get the joke and kept my mouth shut)

We ended up back home and around 4pm we decided to go out for dinner. They were a bit taken aback by eating again, even though it had been 5 hours since our last meal, and frankly we were at a loss as to what to do with them at the house, since all they did was sit and stare and ask questions about tv shows.

Before we left, M approaches me and says:
"Did I happen to notice that in your bathroom you had some of that stuff that you can put on your hands?"
You mean hand lotion?
"No, if one were to, oh, say, pick a skin sore and cause it to bleed..."
band-aid?
"No, the ointment one would put on their skin if they had a sore"
Neosporin?
"Yes, you see Bob always says that I pick at these sores and cause them to bleed and he tells me all the time to stop picking at them...."
At this point I fled into the bathroom to get the neosporine and avoid hearing any more about bleeding sores.

Why can't she just ask for neosporine?

We decided to go to Outback and along the way we also decided to plan their departure.

What time do you need to be at the airport?
"Well, the flight leaves at 8, and they say to be at the airport 2 hours early"
So you need to be at the airport at 6?
"Well, they said 2 hours early"
Ok, so how much time do you need to get ready?
"We can be ready in 15 minutes"
Ok, so that means we should probably get up around 5am, now do you want to go out for breakfast before you go to the airport.

Simple question, right? Apparently not

M starts in with how she's got some crackers and how they could possibly survive if they would get some of our delicious coffee before they left the house...

So you don't want to go for breakfast in the morning?

"Well, if one would want breakfast in the morning, what time would one have to get up in order to get breakfast in the morning?"

This went on for about 15 minutes, back and forth, back and forth... just answer the freakin question, if you want breakfast, we'll get up early enough to go, if you don't... AAAAAAAAAAHHH

So, it was finally determined that a stop at Starbucks would be sufficient.

We had a nice meal at Outback, with a discussion about digital photography, which M was not happy about because she's not interested in photography and therefore could do nothing except butt into the conversation with non-subject matter comments, and typically critical snippy comments directed at B.

That conversation continued after we got home where Hubby and B sat down to look over the photography computer program that Hubby uses... except M just couldn't keep out of it and kept interrupted, at which point hubby snapped at her... and she ran off into the guest room crying. I was oblivious to all this drama because I was nestled downstairs with the dog watching tv.

Since we would need to get up extremely early to not have breakfast, but get them to the airport on time, we decided to go to bed earlier than normal.

Excuse Me 9/9/2012

The reason I haven't updated this blog in quite some time is because I figured out that if I send my husband out to the West Coast once a year, that means he can visit with his brother and parents and I don't have to deal with anything.

It was a brilliant plan. I sit around all week and not cook, enjoying some "me" time alone while hubby gets to pal around with his brother, then they call the parents and they drive over to visit with their sons.

Of course, upon arriving home, I get to hear all of the infuriating details of the visit, which is reminiscent of actual visits here (would you like some of my creme brûlée? Just a little bit of creme brûlée? Why don't you want any of my creme brûlée? I could put it between two slices of bread, make a sandwich out of it).

Per our usual routine, we head to Denny's (because Maryland is devoid of any decent non-franchised places to eat) so he can detox and tell me all of the details of the trip.

Shortly after telling me all about the wonderful place they got liquored up coffee made by a guy that set things on fire and juggled the flaming coffee cups, he added "Oh, and they'll be coming for a visit next month"

Me, with a slice of bacon hanging out of my mouth "wha?"

"Just for the weekend" hubby says as he oozes under the table.

Me, as bacon falls out of my mouth "excuse me?"

I knew he waited until now to tell me because he felt that since we were in a public place, I wouldn't go full bat shit crazy... he was wrong.

"SERIOUSLY????"

"They said they miss you."

"ME? SERIOUSLY?"

"It's just for a weekend"

Oh right, just for the weekend. Last "just for a weekend" visit started on a Thursday and ended on a Wednesday, that's not a "weekend" that's a freakin WEEK!

He could tell I was scheming, probably because my eyes were spinning "No, you aren't going to suddenly have a business trip come up."

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I wouldn't do that... because you haven't told me when they'll be here, so how on earth can I plan anything suddenly when I don't know what date to suddenly have something come up?"

He made the international hand signal to keep your voice down before Denny's management calls the cops. "They're coming this way to do something else, so they're just stopping in"

Yeah, I've heard THAT one before too. "When will they be here?"

"I don't know, they gave me some dates, but you know how I am about remembering things, so I told them to e-mail me".

Oh, you sneaky, sneaky husband... plausible deniability! That means he won't be able to tell me because he doesn't know, and then at the last minute will pronounce "oh, the parents will be here this weekend" crap and then there's no way I can make my escape.

So, I'm sure that all of your dear readers are rejoicing that there will be new installments of Heirloom Horrors on the way. You suck, seriously.

4 More Days10/14/2012

Only four more days until the in-laws arrive. I spent most of the weekend cleaning out the guest room, doing laundry, and vacuuming. Good enough.

Hubby got a call from them last week saying they were bringing a crate of apples and some donuts. Wha?

Yes, apparently, once again, they don't think we have grocery stores here, or that we can purchase apples from their home state because supply chains aren't that extensive to the East Coast, so how can we be expected to buy Washington State apples... at the local Safeway... year round.

The donuts... no clue.

Anyways, we joked about how M would fit a whole crate of apples and donuts in her purse and make it through TSA screening, but apparently they've contacted the airlines and made arrangements, which I'm sure will go without a hitch.

Do I really want to eat donuts and apples that have gone through radiation, bomb sniffing machines, handled by TSA workers (who knows what they do to things, other than steal them)? That answer would be "no". I'm not going to eat any of it. I may pretend to, only to spit it out, but really? Euw.

I'm in denial that they're actually coming.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

And so it begins 10/18/2012

We are at the airport awaiting their arrival.

Day 1: The Arrival 10/20/2012

As usual, the in-laws waited until everyone had gotten off the plane before dawdling to the exit. This time M was in a wheelchair, for some reason, holding a cane.

We did the usual greetings and dawdled to baggage claim the floor below. M dismissed the airline wheelchair pusher at the elevator, and we thanked him for helping her.

At baggage claim M and I broke off to some seats so that G and B could get their bags, and M explained why she was carrying a bag with a box that contained the donuts they brought. She explained in great detail that the had gone to the Dollar store for plastic containers, but when they went to pick up the donuts, the donut shop REFUSED to put them in the plastic containers because the donuts would sweat, so M punched holes in the plastic containers but then she found two old boxes that fit in the reusable shopping bag that she got from a store where she bought a lot of stuff and she got it for free, which she felt was very nice because she shopped there a lot blah blah whatever.

The bags rolled out on the conveyor and they are two HUGE rolling suitcases. For a weekend trip. Turns out that one of the huge bags contains 3 cases of apples. Seriously. One huge suitcase full of apples.

We dawdled to the truck and loaded the bags, then drove to Ruby Tuesdays for dinner. Unfortunately for us, their computer was down so there was a very, very, very long wait for a waiter, food, etc. which left plenty of time for discussions about mindless things, that I blocked out.

We got home for the usual happy dog greeting. We wanted them to go to the guest room with all of their bags before we let the dogs out because we didn't want the dogs to knock over bags and people, etc. but they dawdled and wanted to stop and talk, and were talking over each other, and G was trying to herd them down the hall and they were stopping and G nearly has a stroke getting them to move.

They get in the guest room, I let the dogs out and fled with them outside to chain smoke. We finally got everyone settled in the house, chit chatted for a bit. B announces that the apples he brought were very special apples that you can't get anywhere else and it will be a wonderful treat for us... then pronounced that he brought the very same apples that we have right in our kitchen. Of course.

Shortly after that, we fled to bed.

Day 2: What Could go Wrong 10/20/2012

So at the usual time of around 5am, the dogs wanted to go out, so I snuck them downstairs and out the back door and while they snorfled around, sat at my computer to catch up on... real life.

I hear the floorboards creaking upstairs.  Someone is awake.  I hear them moving into the living room, slowly, cautiously.

I HEAR THEM COMING DOWN THE STAIRS!  A slow, step by step sound, as if they were unsure of their footing.  Like a horror movie, the sound of the steps got closer and closer... I cringed in my seat, unsure if it would be the tolerable B or the intolerable chatty at 5am M.... it was hubby.

We were able to feed the dogs and go back to sleep until a more decent hour... like a lamb to slaughter I got up first, rushed to the coffee maker because facing them without coffee would be suicide.

I did manage to brew a cup and sip it down before M stands at the kitchen door, knocks on the wall and in her annoying squeaky voice asks if she can come into the kitchen.  Um... why are you asking? (I think), it turns out that today is her "ask if she can do everything and ask really stupid questions" day. She asked if she could get a cup of coffee.  Then I had to explain how the Keurig worked, because she knew how to work the Keurig, she had worked one before but the one at this one place wasn't easy because you had to wait for the brew button to light up and then hit the brew button, but she couldn't figure that out and had to get someone to help her, and blah blah blah.  I showed her how to put the cup in and hit brew.

I went out on the deck to smoke, she followed.  It had rained.  CLEARLY it had rained a lot last night, but she said "Oh, did you wake up and rinse off the deck?"  Um... no, it rained.  She looked around in amazement and then pronounced after I told her it had rained that it must have rained.  It started raining again and she started to go inside, but I was still smoking and she asked if I smoked in the house and I said "No, we never smoke in the house".  She asked "Oh, so you don't smoke in the house when guests are here, but do you smoke in the house when guests aren't here?"  Me: "No, we never smoke in the house, ever."  Her: "Oh, so even when guests aren't here you don't smoke in the house?"  Me: "No, we never smoke in the house." while thinking "what part of NEVER don't you understand?".

Hubby finally gets up and there's the usual chit chat about donuts.  Here is the "box" of donuts

Yep, a Monster Energy drink box, in another box, with tissue paper... how sanitary.  We ate the donuts, they were 2 days old.  For the record, we have yet to see the apples.  They are still in the suitcase in the guest room.  I have no idea when the official giving of the apples will occur.

It's about that time when Hubby's workplace calls to bug him on his day off.  It turns out that some of his people haven't taken the mandatory training class that is due today, then another employee shows up and turns in his letter of resignation, then Hubby's boss calls to tell him that he has to wait for something to show up in e-mail then take it to the office.  Hubby is now even more stressed out than normal because B and M are whispering in the kitchen in front of us, then asking questions like:

"Why would this person quit like that?"
"What do you have to take to the office?"
"Where do you think the person that quit will find a job?"

All of these questions lead to long winded stories about their past and people they knew that never really have a point that we can figure out.  I'm too busy thinking "Holy crap, if Hubby has to go into work to do something, that means I'm going to be stuck alone with them for some period of time."  I tell Hubby how much I hate him.

While we wait for the work e-mail to arrive, we decide to get ready and dressed and maybe go to lunch while we wait for the e-mail.  Herding cats.  I shower and get ready first, and just throw on some slacks and a shirt, nothing fancy, but M wants to know why I'm all dressed up.  Um... I'm not.  Everyone else showers and dresses except for M, who (for some reason) follows me around asking questions or telling the same stories she told the night before.  Woot.  While Hubby is getting dressed, M and B talk about random businesses in their town that have moved, then argue about when they moved and where they moved to.  It's riveting.  At one point I'm actually typing out the arrival story on my iPad and M jokingly asks if I'm writing everything down.  I manage a straight face and say "no".

So... the e-mail doesn't show up, it's noon, we're all hungry, we decide to go to lunch.  On the drive there we got to hear about their mechanic, a long convoluted story about something they did to her glove box (where she actually keeps gloves), and then how the mechanic is now in a nursing home.  I have no idea what started that story or what the purpose was other than M hates silence.

We go to Panera, and sure enough, the moment we sit down to eat, the e-mail arrives.  We eat, go home, Hubby goes inside to print out the e-mail to take to his work, drive to a Starbucks where Hubby lets us all out and he goes to work while we sit around a small table at Starbucks.  B's phone is having problems, he can't find his address book.  Its not a smart phone, so I try looking to see what the problem is, just to avoid conversation, but then M starts rattling off the "potato story" that goes something like this:

There's a farmer that hires a man to muck out the stalls and he does well.
Then he asks him to pile up hay, which he does well.
Then he asks him to sort potatoes, but the man asks the farmer to let him just muck out the stall because he doesn't like to make decisions.

1.) The way she told the story it lasted about 3 hours
2.) I have no idea what the point of the story is... still
3.) She told this story at the last visit.

Hubby thankfully finishes up and picks us up, and we go home to relax for a bit before we head out to dinner.  At this point, the mail arrives and Hubby gets a jury duty summons, capping off a craptastic day.

So, we have reservations at 6pm at Fogo de Chao (house of all you can eat meat) that we planned for M's birthday (which was last week).  We want to leave at 5 in case there is traffic, so we start rounding everyone up 45 minutes before 5 because we know what will happen... they'll want to change their pants and that will take an hour... sure enough, we got the whole, let me change something routine, and end up leaving at 5:15.  Luckily traffic didn't suck nearly as bad as usually and we actually got there early.  B and M had comments about just about every person we passed that was walking, obsessing about some woman with pretty bizarre looking shoes, even to the point where the woman veered off down a cross street and B pronouncing that she got on the #3 bus.  Seriously?

We park, we walk to Fogo and got in earlier than our reservation time.  We explain the whole concept to them:  All you can eat salad bar, green side up means bring meat, red side up means stop bringing meat, get what you want.

M and B circle the salad bar as if it were a museum, looking at each item, asking what the item was, pondering the item, then stepping to the next item.  I grabbed what I usually get, sat down and pretty much finished it by the time they got their salad bar items.  As I'm sitting there watching, I'm amazed that M asks B if he wants some of her asparagus, and B asks M if she wants some of his cheese.  People, it's ALL YOU CAN EAT, GO GET SOME IF YOU WANT IT!!!!

Finally we all start the meat eating process.  M just sits there with the red side up as Hubby and I are getting all sorts of tasty meats.  We have to constantly remind her to put the green side up, then use her tongs to snag the meat when its cut.  The filet comes out and she wants it more well done... and pouts when B "takes the piece she wanted"... seriously?  FREAKIN SERIOUSLY?  The waiter dutifully rushes off and brings back a more well done piece for her, but she continues to pout over the piece that B "stole".  OHMYGAH!

I am pleased to announce that when the manager come over to ask how everything was, I and I mentioned my addiction to the Parmesan pork, he made sure the Parmesan pork waiter was at the table the moment I finished the last piece... I love that guy.  It was actually funny that while I was eating dessert, the Parmesan pork guy came over and we laughed.

So, for dessert we pretty much all got the strawberry cream and Hubby told the waiter that it was M's birthday, so they made up her plate with happy birthday and lit a candle and congratulated her and she was just so happy to be the center of attention.  I was a bit disturbed that she couldn't blow out the candle and declared it a trick candle, picked it up (it was imbedded in a strawberry) and was waving it around precariously (I could see the headlines now: Birthday Candle starts major Baltimore fire, guts Fogo de Chao), so when she got it close to my face, I easily blew it out... it wasn't a trick candle.

More chit chat over dessert and finally time to go, but we notice that it is POURING rain.  It wasn't suppose to rain, but apparently a line of storms erupted, so we stood outside under their awning until it stopped and walked over to Barnes and Noble just to walk off some of the meat.  They dawdled around looking at books and talking to Hubby.  I grabbed a new Moleskine and paid for it, more dawdling and when we went to leave... it was pouring rain again, so we hung out under their awning for a while until it slowed down.

We pay for parking before taking the elevator up to the truck.  We were in the elevator with a very nice family with a stroller who were getting off on the floor below us.  We were at the elevator door, so to make it easy, we told them we'd get off on their floor to let them get out more easily, then get back in to our floor.  We get to their floor, get out, let them out, then start to get back in the elevator and M practically yells "THIS ISN'T OUR FLOOR?  OH, WE WERE BEING NICE?"  The family looks at us a little weird, I give them the discrete "she's senile, ignore her" look, they give the whole "Oh yeah, we understand, sucks to be you" look back.  we get back on the elevator and get to the truck.

On the way home we got to hear "What is that building for?  Why are those trucks parked like that?  Why is that building all boarded up?" and then finally we got to hear the story of the flat tire, in a nutshell: B ran over something and got a flat, a state trooper pulled over and helped B change it, M was going to write a thank you to the state trooper, but didn't.  That story was started at Camden Stadium and didn't finish until we pulled into our driveway 20 miles later.

We let the dogs out, ran to bed.

The icing on the cake was that when I published Day One on the blog... it actually published to my other public blog.  I hope neither of them have figured out how to subscribe to that blog in reader because even when I deleted it and put it on this blog, it'll still be in reader... whatever.

Day 3: Words Fail Me 10/21/2012

I know that it's a conspiracy that I'm awake before Hubby and therefore have to spend the first hour or so alone with one or both of them.  Yesterday was no different.  M was sitting on the couch reading when I stumbled out of our bedroom with the dogs, took them outside, sat downstairs for as long as humanly possibly without it being obvious that I was sitting downstairs for as long as humanly possible (the dogs beating on the back door and wooing to come inside gave me away).

I fed the dogs, got coffee, sat at the kitchen table while the dogs ate.  M pops her head in and asks if she can come into the kitchen (NO!), then asks if she can pull out one of the kitchen chairs and sit down (NO!), I mean seriously?  She's sitting there fidgeting and looking at the coffee machine and I ask her if she wants coffee.  "Oh yes, but I'm afraid I can't find the coffee cup I was using yesterday".  I peel back a paper towel that's wrapped around a coffee cup "You mean this one" and start making her coffee.  She was immediately happy again and folded the paper towel and put it aside to use again.

For the 15th time she asked me in that squeaky childish voice if Hubby was going alone to the BBQ this afternoon or if we were all going.  When I told her for the 16th time that we were all going, she looked happy... no, not happy, more like she thought they weren't going, but because she asked so many times, we changed our minds and were allowing them to go.

Around that time Hubby gets up and passed M in the hallway, and as he later tells me, she stopped him and said that if we were all going someone place today, that she and B would need more than 15 minutes notice to get ready.  Pretty much we've given them 30-45 minutes prior notice, which they then take an hour to actually "change their pants".

Around noonish we finally get ready to head to the charity BBQ out in Western Maryland.  We stop at Starbucks, we TOLD them we were going to stop at Starbucks because the drive out to the BBQ was a good hour, and we didn't want them to starve to death before we got there.  You would think that if you were told you were going someplace that you've been to a lot, and that you are familiar with their menu and what they sell, that you would have a pretty good idea what you want before you get there, but no.  To B and M, even though you've been to Starbucks regularly, it seems that each day is a whole new menu and whole new experience as they just can't seem to walk in without a conference, then some discussion, asking everybody in the place what they are having, then deciding to share something.

At each and every gas station we pass these past 6,000 days they've been here, M will look at the price of gas and say "Gas is 30 cents cheaper, we really should take some home with us".  (in your purse with leftovers, I think in my head)

For anonymity sake I'm not going to say what organization this charity BBQ was being run by, but my hubby is a charter member of the National chapter of this organization, but I'm not a member, but the running gag is that Hubby keeps me down in a hole in our basement and lets me out once in a while.  We've even done "proof of life" photos as a joke, so when we pull up to the farm and walk down to where the pig roast is, everyone is happily greeting hubby, remarking about how I must have either escaped the hole or hubby lowered the ladder, and then we'd turn an introduce B and M, pretty much as "and hubby's parents are here visiting with us" because when you are walking through groups of people, you don't go into much detail or else you'll never get to the actual event, you wait until you get where you're going and fill in the blanks then.

Apparently M was not happy, and now that I think back on it, it probably seemed like the "stuck me in a hole" running joke (that I happily encourage by the way) in M's eye was demeaning.  You may recall that she has a bit of a feminazi side to her in that she does not like to be referred to as Mrs.

So, as we got to the main group of people and some of our closest friends and higher up organization members, the VP's wife gathered people around and introduced them as Hubby's mom and dad.  M literally shrieked that her name was M and she didn't want to be called "hubby's mom".  The VP's wife looked at her and said "excuse me?" and M shrieked it again.  The VP's wife was like "ok" and looked at me, I rolled my eyes, and everyone pretty much quickly scattered, including me.

So Hubby, B, and I mingle, drink, eat some food, chat with people, and M is pretty much staying to herself because at this point, nobody wants to talk to her.  I walk off to see a litter of puppies with a friend and member and she asks me about M, I simply tell her that she's a "piece of work" and she pretty much agrees.  When I get back, Hubby and B have taken a walk up to see the puppies and there's M, sitting in the pool house by herself.

Hubby and I go get a plate of roast pig to share with B and M, but M insists that she go get her own plate and in a huff she goes and gets some food and eats it in the pool house by herself.

About this time a lot of people are leaving so of course we are forced to go console M and sit with her so she's not lonely.  She does that.  She makes a scene, pouts, and then you have to go to her and cheer her up... that's how she becomes the center of attention.  We finally just say, screw it, and decide to leave because it's already an uncomfortable scene, so we decide to head home, let the dogs out and spend some time at the house and tell them we'll go someplace at 6pm to eat.

The moment we get in the house, M stomps off for the guestroom and pouts.  Whatever, we go about our business and play and feed the dogs and watch some tv.

6pm rolls around and she's still in the guestroom.  6:30 rolls around and she comes out of the guestroom and starts asking if she needs to change.  The reason we need to eat early is because if hubby eats late, then he has to stay up later because if he doesn't, his GERD will cause him to throw up in the middle of the night... so here it's rolling on 7pm and we finally get out of the house.  By the time we get our food and eat, it's around 8pm and they want to stop for ice cream on the way home, which we do.  Take note: M brought some turkey home with her, and most of her cup of ice cream.  At least she put the turkey in the fridge (covered) and the ice cream in the freezer.

By the time we get home it's about 9pm, so we stay up and chit chat a bit, and honestly I'm feeling a bit nauseous as well at this point.  We go to bed around 10pm, and sure enough, Hubby is up at the crack of dawn throwing up, I have a migraine and am now nauseous, and so begins day 4.

For the record: still no sight of the apples that are packed in the suitcase, but M did throw away two bananas she had in her purse.

Day 4: Seems like 57 10/22/2012

When we last left off, Hubby was puking his guts out through the night (either bad food, or eating too late), which left me to entertain M and B until he could recover somewhat.

I stayed downstairs most of the time in the guise of doing laundry, going upstairs once in a while to get coffee and say "hey, how's it going?"  Big smile, running back downstairs.

At one point I went back upstairs and sat down with them both to initiate some "chit chat" and made the mistake of asking B if he got his Galaxy whatever pad working.  He said he had it set up enough for now, then M laid into him saying that he'll never get it working right because of his lack of operator intelligence.  She is just so freakin RUDE!

When B walked out to sit on the deck in the sun (who can blame him), M asked me if Hubby was ill because of work.  Um.  I sat there for a moment trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about.  She further elaborated that perhaps he was ill from the pressures of work.  I wanted to say that the only pressures he was experiencing right now was not strangling her annoying self, but I explained again that he can't eat after a certain hour because of his GERD.

Around noon Hubby was feeling somewhat better, so we told them that we would go out and get something to eat, so they needed to get ready.  Mind you, they had been sitting around for a good 4 hours, but now toddled off to "get ready".  We are standing around after 20 minutes still waiting on them, they come out of the guest room and say "Oh, we were waiting on you guys".  Yeah, we normally stand around our own house fully dressed and wearing coats.

On the drive there Hubby and I were talking about something, and M just interrupts with something totally not related to what we were talking about, so I respond to her with nothing but complete nonsensical half sentences.  She nods her head seriously and agrees with me.  I bite my lip so I don't laugh.

We go to TGI Fridays, get seated right away.  Hubby asks what the soup of the day is.  The waitress says tomato basil soup and lets us know that it's not a very good soup actually... so of course M orders it.  We chit chat through the meal, M barely eats half of her soup, then leave to go to Starbucks.

While at Starbucks, Hubby asks M about the Starbucks card that he and his brother got for her about a year ago.  They got her a card that would reload when it ran low that is paid by J's credit card.  She announces in that squeaky annoying voice "Oh, I lost that card a few months ago".  Then gets all defensive when Hubby tells her that it was connected to J's credit card.  Hubby texts J to let him know to cancel the reload for that card.

We decide to go to the mall across the street to waste time.  M walks down the middle of the parking lot and has to be pulled over to the side about 5 times so cars could drive through.

At the mall, as usual, they walk about 10 feet behind us.  This has to be one of the most annoying things about them.  They come to visit and spend time with us, but instead of walking with us and chatting about things... they walk behind us... all the time.  If we slow down, they slow down.  If we stop, they stop.  If we get behind them (and it's like a contest, we try to get behind them), then they'll stop and circle behind us.  We circle the mall and go back home to "rest" before our final going out for dinner thing.  I hid downstairs again.

We herd them together again well before we were suppose to leave and finally leave "on time" for once and drive to the Cheesecake Factory.  On the way there, Hubby was explaining an issue he was having with his Mac mail program.  M interrupts with some babbling to try to be a part of the conversation, but has no idea what we're talking about, but includes an example to show she really knows what she's saying with:  "... that's like Mrs. Bumbledebum saying she needs a widget, but Mr. Soandso saying he wants a blue widget."  Seriously... that's what she said.  We just stare straight ahead and drive.

At Cheesecake Factory we had about a 10 minute wait.  While we're sitting in the waiting area, a family of little people come in.  Both Hubby and I stiffen as we wait for M to blurt out the most inappropriate and probably denigrating thing she could possibly say, most likely something to do with the Wizard of Oz or something.  Thankfully we were called to our table, so we rushed her to the table. 

M decides to order their special salad, but she doesn't want half the stuff on the salad (making it pretty much a regular salad) and she wants the dressing on the side.  We eat and talk about stuff, but I have no idea what we talked about because I was in a coma.

When it's time to order dessert, M hands the menu over to B and says that he should pick the dessert they will share.  B picks one thing, M tells him "no, not that".  B picks something else, M tells him "no, not that".  Hubby texts me "OMG!!!"  Finally, after about 6 wrong choices B picks the chocolate cheesecake, which apparently is what she wanted all along.

As we are eating dessert, M just blurts out: So, if you were in a room and had to get out, how would you get past the guy?"

Hubby and I just stare at her.  WTF?

We pay and leave, walking around the outside of the mall, looking in the windows of LL Bean, meander back to the truck and go home.  Thankfully they literally ran into the guestroom as they had to get up at 6am so they could catch their flight.

The Departure 10/22/2012

B and M are pretty much ready at 6am, so I rush around getting the dogs out, fed, konged and then get dressed.

We drag the two huge suitcases to the truck and drive to the airport.

They check the bags and get their boarding passes, then go to Starbucks and get something to drink.  We pretty much just sit there in silence because B is sad that he's leaving us, and M is ... who freakin knows.

We slowly walk to the security checkpoint and hug good bye, then watch them go through the line.  The TSA guy was nice and let them cut to the first class security line which was much shorter, we wave and run to the car.

We get home, fully expecting to find a box or two of apples in the guestroom.  Typically when they leave stuff, they just leave it in the guestroom as a "surprise"... hey SURPRISE if I don't go back in there for a week and find rotted apples.  This time... nothing.  No apples.

They hauled 4 huge boxes of apples, bragged about what a treat they would be for us, then didn't leave any.  They are hauling 4 boxes of apples to Missouri that have been sitting in boxes for a week, then in a suitcase for a week to give to relatives there apparently.

Whatever.

Bliss returns to our home.

Where to EVEN Begin 10/29/2017

I know it's been a long time since we've updated the blog, but we had fallen into a "normal" routine.

Every year in September, hubby would either go out to the West Coast to visit his brother and B and M would drive out to visit with them, or J would come to our house and we'd vent about B and M and have lots of coffee and food.

Each year, hubby would return home and talk about how old his parents were getting, and how concerned he was at his father's fragile state.  He'd try to discuss their health, but they would brush him off, say everything was fine, even though he'd also get the whole "this will be the last time we see you" death knell talk.

This year had been particularly crappy for us.  On top of some dental health issues, one of our dogs passed in April, and our remaining dog was having significant health issues and we knew that he would be passing soon.  Hubby explained to his parents that he would not be going out to the West Coast for the annual visit because he couldn't risk going out there and having something happen to our last dog while he was gone.

Of course they didn't believe him. They thought it was an elaborate plan to keep them from diving to J's house to visit.  They believed "they weren't wanted around any more" and we were lying to them to keep them from coming out to visit.  Whatever.

We had heard (after the fact, of course) through phone calls to them every week, that B was having health issues and had been in and out of hospitals.  At one point, they DROVE to California where B had some sort of health scare and was admitted to a hospital and once he was discharged, they DROVE back home despite all of our offers to fly there and drive them, or make arrangements for other transportation for them.

In October our last dog passed peacefully in our arms.  The day before he passed we learned (third hand) that B was having some pretty serious heart problems and pain from his hip.  It was so significant that we dug up their wills and found that we only had a draft copy of M's will... nobody had a copy of B's will.

B had been talking to Jack behind M's back and kept telling him that B had a file on his phone for "the boys", and that it contained very important information that the boys would need if something were to happen to him.  J explained that it would be important for him to GIVE HIM that information now so they would know what to do... but B wouldn't give it to him, just kept telling him how important it was.

Additionally, B had told both of them that he had drafted a new will and it was important that they both be there for the reading because it had very important information about their mother and what they needed to do to take care of her if anything happened to him... except he wouldn't give us a copy and it turns out that he hadn't signed it yet.  J and his wife nagged him to get it signed.  Even said they would get the lawyer to come out to witness and get his signature notarized if they couldn't make it to the lawyer's office.

That never happened.

29 October 2017

Early morning 29 October 2017 our home phone rang.  We never answer that phone, but when the answering machine kicked on and it was B and M's neighbor calling to tell us that B was taken by ambulance to the hospital and it didn't look good, we immediately called him back.

He told us during that call that:

• B couldn't breathe, the ambulance arrived, he coded in the ambulance and they got him back.
• B coded in the Emergency Room, the doctors were about to declare him dead, but he came back.

We learned later that this is actually what happened.  Had we heard it from M, we would have dismissed it as her being dramatic and delusional, but the neighbors told us, as they were in the room when it happened, and they aren't the types to be dramatic or delusional:

B's heart stopped.  The doctors and nurses tried to revive him, to no avail.  They told M and the neighbors that he was gone.

They all join hands and say a prayer.

M leans over and whispers something in B's ear.

B opens his eyes and yells "THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID M".

The neighbors, doctors, and nurses all crap their pants.

M starts to argue with him.

Not "OHMYGAWD he's alive it's a miracle", no happiness, no shock, no nothing... she argues with a guy that just came back from the dead.

The doctors and nurses scurry and get him stabilized and moved into ICU.

J and BA scurry to get friends to stay with their pets and get the house ready so they can drive the 4 hours to the hospital to assess the situation (because anything coming from M is just a mish mash of insanity), and the neighbors are telling them that they should really get out there.  They have their own parent health issues to deal with and need to leave and they don't think M is coherent enough to deal with this alone.

31 October 2017

J and BA make it to the hospital to find out what is really going on.  It turns out that the doctors believe that B's days are numbered, so they are moving him to the local Hospice House.

We start scrambling to move some money around and make flight reservations for Friday 3 November 2017, for G so he can go out there, see his father, and fly back on Monday.  We are told that it may be 6 months, it may be next week when he passes, they just don't know.  We make financial arrangement so that if this is a longer process, we'll have liquid cash available to make multiple trips, and ensure that we are there to help M with the loss and ensure her financials are taken care of (same thing we did when my dad passed).

J and BA go to B and M's house to check on their mother... and she refuses to let them in the house.  Despite the fact that they live in a HUGE house with plenty of bedrooms, she doesn't want anyone staying there, so they get a hotel room.  They also don't know what the inside of the house looks like or what is going on and why she won't let them in the house.  J and BA are trying to deal with the paperwork for the Hospice House and can't get access to the things they need in the house.  J finally convinces M to let him in the house, but follows him around everywhere and demands that he doesn't take anything.

Additionally, the staff at the Hospice House realizes that M isn't all there and tell J and BA that she is NOT allowed on their property unless she is escorted by someone.  They tell J and BA that M told the nurses that she knows that B is faking all of this, that he's perfectly fine and she's mad at him for putting on this whole act.  She keeps asking them when he can go home.

2 November 2017

B has problems and the staff call M to tell her to come in.  They try to call J, but there's an issue with the phone lines out there.  When they finally get ahold of J and BA, they come out immediately, but M doesn't show up.  The staff become concerned and put out a Silver Alert for her when all efforts to call and locate her go unanswered.  B gets stabilized, but M is still nowhere to be found... until the Police contact her and find that she's at home.  She left, got lost, returned home and went to bed.  She says that it was overcast out and she couldn't navigate, so she just went back home.

Recap:  husband is dying in Hospice.  Hospice calls and says you need to come, this may be it.  She leaves, goes back home, goes to bed, doesn't bother to call anyone.

Running joke: Apparently M navigates by the stars and a sextant when she drives.



J, BA, and M go to the funeral home to start making arrangements.  Apparently B had already made and paid for his final arrangements, but that doesn't stop M from trying to do whatever she wants.  She doesn't want an obituary or any announcement of any kind.  NOTHING.  She doesn't want anyone called or notified.  J and BA ask if any of the family was notified.  NOPE.  Nor was M going to call them.  Seriously?  So, he's dying, nobody knows, so nobody can go and see him and get closure except the immediate family?

B wanted to be cremated and his golfing buddies had talked about sprinkling some of his ashes at B's beloved golf course.  He mentioned being sprinkled in one of the holes on the course and they would joke that the wind would blow him out of bounds.

NOPE!  M would have none of that.  As a matter of fact, she wanted a cheaper urn, she wanted barely any money spent on him at all.

Their church pastor is a really nice guy and he suggested that they have a nice luncheon and then a celebration of his life service.  M begrudgingly agrees to this.  When I was told this, I thought "well, who the hell is going to show up because nobody knows he's passed"

3 November 2017

G flies out, arrives pretty late, but they all go to the Hospice House together and see B who is heavily sedated and probably only nominally aware that G has arrived.  They spend some time there and then leave to catch some sleep.

A few hours later B passes away.

4 November 2017

I rush around to get flights out West.

M wants to sit with him and refuses to leave.  They finally get her to leave.

M gets stuck in loops and obsesses with finding his wallet.  She is convinced that someone has stolen his wallet and starts calling the Hospital and the Hospice House, even though J, BA, and G say that they will stop by each place to ask.  She calls the hospital and Hospice house so many times that they ask J, BA, and G to try to get them to stop her from calling because their staff has more important things to do (and they do, seriously, they really do).  

Turns out... she had his wallet in her purse.  Then she fixates on finding his clothes (they are already at her house), then she fixates and some other stupid thing.

My flight was delayed a few hours and around 11pm West Coast time, I arrive at the Shit Show.

Day 1 for Me 11/6/2017

We all were staying at the local Holiday Inn Express (making us experts in all manner of things) and had very nice rooms.  Thankfully there was a Keurig coffee maker in there because morning came early.

After a very long trip and sleeping in a strange bed, I wasn't extremely coherent, but after a hot shower (and for ONCE a hotel had a shower head that blasted hot water instead of dribbling a weak stream), hubby and I went up to partake of the free breakfast and wait for J and BA to wake up and stumble to the lobby.

Tasty breakfast!  Cinnamon rolls, fresh pancakes from a machine (that we threatened to steal), juices, cereals, yogurt varieties, toast and bread varieties, scrambled eggs, bacon, the works and lots and lots of coffee.  Very pleasant seating area just past the lobby.  The lobby had a fireplace and comfy seating.

We all plotted the day; getting M out of the house and to the church with the pictures she selected to display at the service on Tuesday, and get her something to eat.  We were also invited out to a relatives house for a baked potato dinner with other family members.  We didn't want to push M into doing a lot of things, as she was probably overwhelmed already, but she had already made it clear that she was an adult, could take care of herself, and that she didn't want anyone helping her with the financial things like social security, other benefits, and didn't want anyone at the reading of the will.

The will part was troublesome for everyone.  We all knew that B wrote a new will and there had been some push back on him actually signing it.  Nobody had copies of his old or new will, so we didn't have a clue what any of them said.  B had told J that it was important they be there for the will reading, because the new will contained information they needed to know about.  When asked about the will reading, M literally screamed at the boys that she would handle it alone and that she had already made an appointment for Friday (after we all left town).  We put in a call to the lawyer's office and explained the situation, and that we would like to schedule a reading of the will for the boys if they were named in the will.  The office said they would have the lawyer call them.

Whenever one or the other son asked about the finances, M would go nuts and scream at them.  "I'm not a child, I can handle all of this myself, I don't need your help, I'm perfectly capable of handling all of this, we have plenty of money, I was an accountant and can handle my own finances, don't your dare get into my business".

Since I hadn't been there for all of this, I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and chalking down some of the behavior to just losing her husband of a zillion years, but also knowing her mental state, figure it's a combination of the two that makes it seem more crazy than normal.

We gird our loins and all pile into the rental SUV and drive to M's house.  We knock on the door, but no answer.  J calls her and says that we're at the door.  She opens the garage door (which she prefers to use, whatever) and go inside.

We go inside and she's frantic because she can't balance one of their retirement accounts.  No "hi", no "hey P, I'm so glad you could make it", no nothing.  Whatever.  It takes her a few minutes to realize that I'm there and then she gives me a hug.

Because she hadn't let them in the house without following them, we split into teams.  J and BA would "help" her with the retirement reconciliation thing (and get a peek at her finances to make sure she would be ok financially) while G and I scour the house.  We all had visions of rooms that resembled scenes out of hoarders or something that she may have been trying to hide.  On the contrary, and much to our relief and somewhat horror, the house was incredibly clean for two people that kept everything that came into their hands.  Too clean.  It dawned on us that it was mostly all of her stuff, B's stuff (photography, cameras, golf things, etc.) were gone.  There was a shredder set up at the kitchen table.  She was busily purging B's things.

I want to be clear, it wasn't like we pulled up in a moving van to clean out the house and leave her with nothing.  We all went there with the one purpose of helping her make sure she was financially, mentally, and physically sound to keep living in the house and have the means to live comfortably.  When we saw that she had been actively purging everything of B's (and not to be ghoulish, but she started purging even before the body was cold), we decided that we needed to see if we could get those mementos that meant something to the boys before she destroyed them.

We also knew that B kept a weapon and our mission was to locate it and unload it and figure out how to get it out of the house.  In her state of mind, we didn't want her to stumble upon it and something horrible happen.  We went through everything and couldn't find it.  We have no idea what became of it and can only think that she threw it away.

Before I arrived, they caught M flushing all sorts of really heavy narcotics and other drugs by the bag full down the toilet.  They were like "um, you can't do that!"  Her response: "yes I can, and I've been doing it every day".  Um... great, way to poison the drinking water in your city M.  Later we would joke that when we needed something to calm down we were going to go drink out of her toilet.

We were also searching for B's DD214, his service discharge record.  B would be eligible for a burial flag and military benefits would go to M.  M didn't care.  She said she didn't want the flag (until G mentioned that he would like it) and even said she didn't want any money coming from veteran benefits.  She said she just couldn't be bothered with that.  We never found the DD214, but did find some of his military records that we hope we can use to get his burial flag behind her back.

Once the account had been easily reconciled, M started wandering around and asking the boys what things they wanted.  G and J wanted to walk around the house and ask her the significance of various autographed pictures, the really large collection of salt and pepper shakers (some looked very old) that B collected and had been handed down in his family, and various things that had memories for the boys.

Every time one of them expressed an interest in something insignificant, but holding a lot of fond memories, M would say "put your name on it and I'll consider giving it to you", or "Put your name on it and you can have it when I'm dead".  J pointed out the salt and pepper shakers, and M frowned and said "oh that stuff,  I'm just going to throw those out so you can have those".  J said, Ok, but then M said "Well, you can't have them now, put your name on it and you can have them when I'm dead."

G found a set of Pendleton blankets and expressed interest in those.  M had no idea they even existed and said they were ugly, but once again said "You can't have those, you have to wait for me to die first".  Everything, from the mundane, to the downright inconsequential, no matter what it was, she refused to let them take anything.  It was all "HERS" and she wouldn't part with it.  You know what... it is hers (unless the will said differently), but come on... a blanket you had no idea you had and didn't even like.

G mentioned that he'd like all of B's photographs (what was left of them).  B had been shipping boxes and boxes of photos, slides, and negatives to us because he caught M throwing them away.  M couldn't grasp what he meant by "all".  As they walked around the house trying to decipher what things had family significance, M would find a photograph and say "what about this photo?".

G: Yes, all photographs.
M: Even this one?
G: Yes, ALL photographs
M: Well, you can't mean this one
G: ALL
M: You don't want this one though, right?

All of B's remaining photography was gone.  B took photos of everything, literally EVERYTHING, and there was very little left.  The file cabinet where he had stored photos all organized was empty.  We figured out that the only pictures left were ones with M in them.  We did stumble upon an old foot locker in the closet of a spare bedroom and inside were two photo albums of B's years in the U.S. Air Force.  We grabbed them and put them under my coat in the living room and snuck them to the rental truck first chance with some of us blocking her with questions while the other ran out with them.  We felt horrible about doing that, but she was actively shredded and throwing away everything of B's and we knew that if she ever found these albums, she would destroy them.

M did bring us photos that she didn't want, typically photos of ourselves on one of the many family trips.  Everything else was off limits.  If she handed you something (that she had carefully labeled with a sticky note) and said we could have it, we learned to quickly hide it, because 5 minutes later she would snatch it back and say "You can't take that".

There was only one other thing that hubby wanted in that whole house and it was the train set that he and his father had built together and had fun playing with.  When they moved from their first house, it was never allowed in the new house and was boxed up and located (at least it was last seen) in the garage in the upper storage platform.  There was just no easy way for anyone to get up there, and we still didn't know the whole will situation.  Anything we took out of the house could be conceived by M as stealing, and we had no doubt that in her mental condition (since she already accused us of trying to steal from her) she would call the police on us.  She barely let us in the house and only because we were there to help HER, but any time we brought up B, she would get angry and stomp off and would get angry if we actually tried to help or give her any advice.  We pretty much had no idea what would set her off on a screaming tirade, accusation, or shut down pouting fit.

It was getting around noon and she hadn't eaten (as far as we knew).  Relatives had delivered a big turkey wrap platter to her, which she simply brought inside and put on the dryer.  We have no idea how long it sat on the dryer before we discovered it and put it in the fridge.  The group ate some before I arrived and they felt somewhat sick afterwards, but she wouldn't let us throw it out.  She kept offering it to us for lunch but we suggested we take her out for a nice meal instead.  Thankfully she agreed.

Once it was decided we'd go to lunch, she had to get ready, which included running around the house gathering things, asking us the same questions over and over again, losing her purse, finding her purse, losing her purse, finding it, getting a coat, then saying she needed to go get her coat that she was already wearing and an hour later we actually made it out of the house.

We opted to go to Jimmy Johns for sandwiches.  She got mad that I insisted that we pay for everyone's food and refused to talk much during the meal.  She took the bread off her sandwich and ate only a small portion of the turkey and had trouble swallowing it.  She wrapped the turkey into a napkin and it got thrown away with the rest of the trash by accident... except she accused us of stealing her food.  Throughout the meal she kept asking us what day it was, and when we were all leaving.  We dutifully responded each time.  I lost count.

We had to go back to the house to pick up the pictures that she had forgotten to bring with us to take to the church.  That took about a half hour (most of us stayed in the truck because good lord), and finally we were on the way to the church.  We dropped off the photos and went over the lunch and services schedule.  Her pastor was very nice, understanding.  J and G took him aside and explained what was going on when BA and I steered M away from the conversation.

The next stop was to a jewelers to have B's ring sized for her finger.  She went inside with J while the rest of us stayed outside.  Suddenly M came running out frantically.  She had lost her wallet.  Oh geez.  I grabbed her purse and started looking through it, no wallet (but B's wallet was in a compartment, and she had a checkbook stuffed with money... lovely).  We had only been at the house, and Jimmy Johns, so we got in the truck to trace our steps.  I wasn't concerned because she had been doing finances at the house, and most likely left it in their office.

She literally jumped out of the truck before it was parked at Jimmy Johns and ran inside, J followed.  They didn't have it.  She was convinced they did and had stolen it.  We dragged her back into the truck and drove back to her house.  She ran inside and frantically searched the house.  I calmly walk inside and go to the office, lift off some papers and get the wallet and hand it to her.  She hugged me and started crying.  That was the first honest sign of emotion she expressed that entire visit.  I explained about 14 times that it would help if she created lists of things to remember before leaving the house.  She said she didn't need lists.  Ok.

She wanted us to leave, so we did (gladly) and went back to the hotel after stopping for lattes (of course).  We met back up at the lobby and sat in front of the fire and vented until it was time to pick her back up and take her to a relative's house for dinner.  BA wasn't feeling well and stayed at the hotel (and honestly, I wish I had thought of that excuse).

We called M and went inside to help her get ready.  She made a big deal of saying that she didn't need a list, she could remember everything before she left.  She demonstrated by pulling her wallet and gloves out of her purse and saying "see, I have my wallet and gloves", then she sat them on the counter, picked up her purse and started walking away.  "Um, M... you'll need your wallet and gloves".  She got all snippy, said she knew they were there, didn't need reminding, she was an adult... then left her keys on the counter and walked away.  OFFS.

On the drive to the house, she started talking about being alone in the house and nobody there and got emotional.  She grabbed my hand and held it.  I felt sorry for her.  She held my hand for about 5 minutes, then looked down and snatched her hand away and said to me curtly "I don't need you to hold my hand, I'm an adult, I can handle these things"  Okey dokey.

M was fine at the dinner.  The relatives were wonderful people, great sense of humor, we chatted about family things and B.  M moped when the conversation wasn't about her and wandered off in the house, but for the most part she acted like a normal person.  Before dinner they said a prayer and then asked J to give a toast, which he did.  M then spoke up and said she wanted to give a toast, which consisted of her saying that she shared HER house, HER life, and HER bed with B, and YELLED AT HIM (screaming) when he was frustrating, and she'll miss him.  She recalled a time when they were both going to something for school and that her parents paid her way, but Bob's family was too poor, so he had to work in the family store to get the money to go.  We all kind of just stood there for a moment and then clinked glasses.

We had a nice dinner, talked about things, caught up on family stories and as it was getting late, M announced she wanted to go home.  We drove home in silence pretty much and dropped her off.  We asked if she wanted us to come in for a moment to make sure she was fine.  NOOOOOO.  Ok, we waited for her to get in the house and close the garage door and left.

Back to the hotel lobby for more venting.