Saturday

The wind is up, rattling the trees and sending small bits of debris against the house.  Not my house, my girlfriend's house.  It is blissfully quiet here in the morning and the dogs pad about with nary a sound.  It all feels so familiar...like my old life, before parents.  There is even a teenage daughter in the house (again) who loves her computer and all things Magna and animation.  Oh, and the Food Network, just like my step-daughter does.

A morning dove outside competes with the blue jays.  Today we may go buy flowers to freshen up the pots and the spot under the tree.  Last night we sat out on the patio drinking our port and talking about ex-husbands, ex-girlfriends, ex-domestic partners, assorted neighbors and mutual friends.

Mom, meanwhile, is being vetted for a study on Parkinson's through UCLA.  She jumping through hoops to see if she meets the criteria; she'll probably be going down there for some initial visits with the doc who is running the study.  She's eager to participate: it's a study to see if magnetic waves on the brain impact the mood and motor control of people with Parkinson's.

Last night she was not feeling well -- jumpy and anxious actually.  I suggested she take a pill the doc had prescribed for her just for anxiety.  And I also suggested she forgo her usual evening martini if she took this pill.  She took the pill and it helped.  She had a martini and it didn't help.  When dad brought out a bottle of wine for dinner, I pantomimed the ol' slicing of the throat - CUT HER OFF.  He complied.  Poor thing, she  could barely sit through dinner, and her mind was tripping in some far-out land.  Her messages back to us mere mortals at the dinner table made no sense.  Then it was off to bed to sleep it off.  I hope she doesn't remember a thing this morning.

I won't be offering one of those pills again.  And, hopefully, if I do, they will take my no martini admonishment seriously.  The chemistry of the mind, especially with the elderly, is a dicey thing.

Have a lovely weekend, all.