Taking it as it comes...

Woken up very early this morning by the smell of rain on the breeze. We have had temps in the high nineties, low hundreds for a couple weeks now. Rain, So far we have gotten .50 inches out of this storm!  There is  a projected high of 80 degrees for today. But, right now it's 60 with a slight breeze. Perfect sleeping weather, which suits Wee Willie just fine. That dog can sleep, he has unmade my bed twice now to get the duvet mounded just right to sleep in. I will wait a bit to turn on the whole house fan, since it's in the hall ceiling, right off my bedroom.

I have been trying to get the yard in some sort of shape. Chain saw, hedge clippers, hoes, and rakes have been a big help.  Hank and I have made many trips to the green waste station, and have many more to go. 

I seem to have inherited some of Dad's friends. One elderly lady has had cancer surgery and her husband called to let me know. So off to Oak River rehab in Anderson to take her flowers. As I was getting ready to leave home, I recalled that Dad and I had  lots of fun flying combat missions with our RC helos around the house. Sam the ol cowman Navy pilot (I adopted him when Dad was in rehab) lives at the care side of Oak River.  So I loaded up one of the helos and took it up to Sam. He is enjoying terrorizing the staff with it immensely.

I keep close tabs on Dad's girl friend, as she has not been well, and her family is busy and dysfunctional to boot.  Dad called her every night, and I know she misses him greatly.  But, boy can that lady talk.

Haven't gotten to take Dad up to hunt'n camp yet. The flight has been delayed by a couple of family issues. It makes me sad that it is one of the special things I promised Dad I would do, that has become another bone of contention. 
 

Trying to see that the people that need or can use Dad's stuff are getting it in a timely fashion.  Some time ago he gave me the only thing of his that I truly wanted, his pilot wings. 

The Dad Report...

Sometimes you just have to push through, and keep plugging along.

Dad has had me fairly busy taking his favorite foods, the mail, newspapers, etc, up to him, daily. He won't eat the food at rehab, says it doesn't taste good to him.  I have been concerned about his not eating, or eating very little, as he has dropped 6 lbs (he didn't have to spare) since he got there.  The staff are very good about answering my constant questions on his care and status.
 

He has had loads of cards, balloons, phone calls, and visitors.  Still he is depressed, he just wants to be home, were he totally runs the show.  But he has needed to be strong enough to come home, a vicious circle. I've met with his social services lady several times, and finally the other day told her, "He's 93, he's lived a good long life, now do what ever arrangements it takes so I can take him home, soon".  He can do PT at home, he can have home help, I can make sure he eats, and he has Willie and friends to help keep his spirits up.
  

He had an interesting table mate in the dining room. Old P38 driver from a ranching family in Arizona, that went on to keep flying and ranching in N Calif. I have adopted him, he's 94. He has great stories of ranches, and cowmen we both knew. And his flying stories are just short of unbelievable. I have given him our info and told him when he's ready for a breakout I'll come get him.

They are releasing Dad to me to bring him home tomorrow, Sat. He has really missed his home routine.

Things never go quite the way we sometimes think they should... and to stick another spoke in the mix I have come down with a whooper of a cold.  I'll get over it, but Dad can't afford to get it.  Will do my best to see that that doesn't happen, but dammit! Then I hear from the staff that Dad says he wants to go home because my cooking is the best, and that I will take good care of him.  Bless his heart that's more than a bit of a stretch on the cooking...