First the nothing. I have not gotten a job yet, nor am I closer to living on my own.
I went up to Barnum earlier in the week to see Betty's mechanic and body shop men. Aubrey, the mechanic took a look at the Camry and thought it well worth repairing. Said I needed new light bulbs and to have a welder look at where the exhaust pipe came off the engine. Otherwise I was fine. He thought ten dollars more than fair for his time. Gotta love it. Then we went over to Tony Grimm's shop and he wrote up an estimate of $450. to fix the bumper and light assembly and another forty to knock the rear bumper back into alignment. That was Monday. I came back on Wednesday night and dropped it off at 8:30 on Thursday morning. It was done this morning. I had been missing a front wheelcover and he found one that sort of matched and threw it on for free. Then he decided to only charge $470. for a job he estimated at $490. Some things are better in small towns for sure! Thank you Betty.
After we dropped the car at the body shop we went back to the house and had a quiet morning. After lunch we went in the lake. It was so warm. I was very glad to be wearing my rubber shoes though. Clams and stones and weeds, oh my. Dinner at Hanging Horn Village where they have big city prices. I think their food is fine, but not all that wonderful. It is, though, the only decent place around for miles. As usual Betty knew some people there.
Today we went to Jay Cooke State Park. I haven't been there in at least ten years. The rock formations were as timeless as ever. We had a good time hiking around and enjoying the scenery. We arrived around nine and left at eleven, just as crowds were getting there. I loved looking at the water and rocks and Betty was able to tell me about some of the flora. We walked down to a protected part of the back water and Betty identified deer, wolf, and bear tracks. I thought they were just holes in the sand. I bow to greater knowledge.
Betty gets around so well it is hard to remember she is 84 years old! I saw some of her hesitation and helped her down over some of the rocky trails. Although she is easily offended, she took none as I offered my hand. I told her it put my mind at rest to see her accept help when she needed it. I reiterated how sensible she was and that we would not have to worry about her being alone in the house when it got too much for her.
Here is the problem. She is stubborn and can not hear very well and thinks people are talking down to her. When we sat at the gas pump I asked her what side the door was on. She got all defensive and told me she knew where her gas door was and hated when people treated her like an idiot. I sat for a moment and said I was only asking because a man was filling a gas can on the other side and sometimes I went to the far side and pulled the nozzle behind the car. I was just asking, I wasn't telling her what to do. She had to regroup and apologize but did tell me it drove her crazy when people spoke to her in words of one syllable as if she was an idiot.
When we were at Autumn Voices choir practice on Monday, she had to have everything repeated. She has no idea of how deaf she is. Scott says he would like to fit her with new hearing aids that would help her singing. Betty tells me she has two swim suits, one that I bought her, and one she bought on her own. But what she goes swimming in is just awful. She wears an ancient pair of bleach splotched shorts and a Helly Hanson singlet that not only is full of holes, it is almost indecent. The yoke is grey, but the chest is white nylon, so her nipples show through. Oh boy. I asked if she has a philosophical objection to the suits. She finally admitted that she is not going to be 130 pounds again and doesn't like the way she looks in a bathing suit. But she doesn't mind her nipples showing, I asked. She did laugh and admit it was silly.
When we were at Jay Cooke we were told that the water was Root Beer colored. I said I always heard it called tea colored. Later on when we were in the lake I mentioned that when she was on her back, she was having a Root Beer Float. Aren't I the witty one? And if she washes her hair in the lake, which she does, that when she is all lathered up she is a root beer float with whipped cream. Big groan, but I liked it and would have gone on ad nauseum, but took the hint and shut up. How lucky I have been in my in-laws. Poor Scott has not been quite so lucky.
This week my breasts have been so tender, and I was experiencing cramps, just like I was expecting my period. Imagine my surprise to get a period after eleven months. I thought I was done and didn't miss it for a minute. I was so looking forward to September to be able to say I was there, in menopause. I am fifty-seven years old and really ready to be done. The PMS I had this week was truly awful. I lost my temper with the old man and could have hurt him.
On Tuesday night the old lady said the old man was crying that he wanted to go to the beach. I knew I had to get up to Barnum but I said I would take him on Thursday at 2. About ten to two I called to say I would be late. The old lady couldn't hear me so the old man got on the phone and I gave him the message. By the time I got there at 2:20 he got himself into a snit about why I was late. Now the last thing I wanted to do was go to the beach and here he was giving me shit about my time management skills. I told him I called, he insisted I did not. We got in a shouting match and I hit him with a towel. I am so appalled at my action that I feel like I should be put in jail. I haven't hit anyone in over twenty years. I can't begin to tell of my shame at hitting this frail old man with a towel. I know he can push my buttons, but this was like lighting a flame to dynamite. When I saw my blood on Thursday, I was relieved. I am still mortified at my actions, but can blame it on my hormones. That doesn't make it right by any standard, but at least it makes it understandable.
I've just listened to the phone messages. My mother called to say "Thank you, thank you, thank you for making my life easier. I love you." Oh my God, I feel like such a heel.
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