Meow Meow Meow

Every now and then, I meet someone on the job that delights me in ways so unexpected, I take the joy with me for days. Such was this week when I found myself in the home of a woman who appeared to be mystified as to why I was there.

It was the correct time, but I was not the expected person, so the excuses were flying fast and furious. She really did not need anything at all. Did I want to hear about her son who was trying to move her into a facility where she would get full care? Did I agree that he should ask her before he decided to majke such decisions? Did I have anyone in my family like that? And, once this topic was exhausted, 25 minutes later, did I want to see her condo?

I ooohed and aaahed in all the appropriate spots and when we were admiring the bathroom I closed the door and allowed as how since we were already in there....

At the end of bathing a person, I offer them a soapy cloth and ask them if they would like to clean their personal area. I do not use any other term be it man or woman - I just say "personal area." Most people appreciate the choice even if they cannot do it themselves. This particular woman looked at me with her eyebrows arched. "Hmm? What did you say?" I repeated myself with accompanying hand gestures to the area in question.

"OOooooh," she said. "You mean my pussycat. Okay dear, I will wash the kitty."

This from an 89 year old woman.
First time for everything.
:)

Fun and Linguistics in the Workplace

One of my very favourite places to go during work hours is the home of a lovely woman of danish descent who requires assistance to stay in her own home. She has a daughter who is a treasure beyond measure, who keeps the fridge full of pre-cooked tasty home meals that will appeal to her gourmet cook mother. The daughter keeps the garden in bloom and flowers on the table in even the darkest months. All things cheery and nice appears to be her mantra.

Frequently I will find myself grinning in that home from sheer delight in the job. This week it was laugh out loud at myself. Here is what happened.

I dropped in around the lunch hour and asked my dear client if the single portion of homemade macaroni and cheese was what she wanted. "Yes, and please heat in on the stove in butter", she replied. Done.

I put the tasty slice on a plate and handed it to her.
She said (or so I thought) : "You misunderstood me. I wanted this heated on the stove."
Puzzled, I replied: "Yes. I did that."
She said: "No no, I wanted it mushed up."
I said, handing her a fork and knife: "You can do that now that it's hot. Ok?"
--- silence--

She smiled at me and said: "No, I dont think you know what I mean. Can you bring me the curry sauce? It is in a jar in the fridge."

Curry and macaroni is a new one on me, but not the first strange combination she has requested. I brought over the jar to a very strange reaction.

She enunciated carefully for me: "Not CURRY - CHERRY."
Ok. I did just that.

and she lovingly spooned cherries and cherry sauce over her portion of pasta.
I suppose I was still standing there looking bemused, so she looked up at me questioningly.

"Pasta and Cherries isnt something I have ever tried", I ventured.

"Pasta?" She looked horrified. "I thought this was rice pudding."

--------

hee hee
I guess you had to be there.
Looking in the fridge I found a bowl of homemade rice pudding and yes, she ate that with the cherry sauce. The pasta, alas, went down the drain.

Holiday Directions

Every long weekend, there is someone new on my list. This is due to the number of people who choose to take holiday weekends off. Sometimes it is also due to people calling in sick at the last minute. I had one or three new folk and some of them had addresses most unfamiliar to me.

The one I went to today had an address in the binders that differed from the ones on the Weekend sheets. It did not match the one in the computer. Three different addresses for the same client. There was nothing to do but call and get directions. I followed the directions meticulously, and wound up driving around a campsite, trying to avoid kids and bikes and weekend holidayers.

I got smart. I called the client. Seems the directions the OFFICE gave me left out a crucial left turn. -heh

All's well that ends well. As I left I heard the gentleman asking his wife, my client if she liked me.

"Like ice-cream" she said. "But better for me."

I will take that as a compliment.

Ellen's Story

Ellen is really one of my favourite people to attend to.
She has joy and positivity and loves to communicate with life and the world.
Last week she told me this story:

She was born to a simple couple.

Her farming parents were illiterate and could make only the most rudimentary of marks. As Ellen grew older she tried to teach her Mother how to read but it never *took* as Mom had little time and much to do. Her mother was ever angry at her own parents for not schooling her. She had been forced to attend Church every Sunday but School was a no-no. It was all work in those days regardless of gender. Her mother had no use for religion ever after and Ellen grew up loving hymns and nature but never felt any calling to Church or Church-Folk.

Ellen met and married her husband in the dirty 30s. Around the six month mark of their marriage an official letter arrived for her husband, and the two of them had to find Ellen's birth certificate. She had none so she had to go to the District where her birth was reported and have a legal copy made. A lot of fuss but it seemed that when she was born her mother had put her mark beside the name the Official heard: "Allan".

Good Old Ottawa was making sure Gay Marriage waited until the next century.
Ellen remembered how annoyed her husband was and how shocked her mother was.

" Imagine my dear, having to swear on the Bible as to your sex."
"Could be worse, Ellen. At least they didn't ask for visual confirmation."

She gave me some physical conformation for that one.

-=-