Ernie has gone up to bed, with the parting injunction, "no robots!" His tone suggested this was a condition of my using his computer to check email.
Without affirming or denying this request, I feel bound by it. I suspect that this includes an unspoken corrolary: no little penguins blasting paths into a maze, either, nor idly whirling groups of colored spheres, nor oddly discontinuous snakes.
No computer games, in other words.
And no "\/" key, either: it is stuck to the board.
So I am left to whittle away my wakefulness with reflection and commentary. Producti\/e pensi\/ity, if you will.
(I could always go to bed, but the keyboard flirts shamelessly with my fingers.)

I took Grandma in for cataract surgery Tuesday. Dad brought some light snacks to help see her home after her short hospital stay (about 3 hours, as predicted). We had lunch, and then left her to enjoy her mettallic eyepatch.
Today, Mom and I stopped by at different times, to check in and remind her about her follow-up eye-drops; I also took her to see Dr Chestler again, to confirm that the eye was doing well. It will apparently be dilated for perhaps another 24-48 hours, but already she can see out of it (and can read more lines on the optometrist's chart than I remember from before.)
The process of helping her use the eyedrops, and staying o\/ernight to help her get to surgery smoothly the next morning (including not eating or drinking after midnight, a result we achie\/ed by taping the fridge shut with a note to remind her), also meant I was there, attending, for almost two days straight.
It's hard to belie\/e I stayed there 24/7 for almost a year. I suppose it wasnt, really -- I had another job most of that time, and spent the night at Mom's or stayed out all hours when I had any excuse. But being there and attenti\/e for that long, I was starting to get irritable. It was hot, too -- remarkable how big a role the temperature plays in your sense of personal comfort, when all else is taken care of. I wonder if one of Cob Cottage's heated benches would satisfy Grandma, or if the idea of satisfying any elderly person as to body temperature is a sign of incurable optimism.

***
I'd like to test out humor short quips, with a possible interest in sending them to Reader's Digest or something.
Funny lines are worth repeating, anyway -- so please comment as to which of these you like best:


Raspberries:
- The day before I went in for minor surgery, my granddaughter and I were trying to ignore our anxiety. The neighbor came to the door to offer some encouragement, along with a basket of fresh-picked raspberries. She agreed to look after the cat if anything delayed our return, but commented that we'd better put the berries in the fridge just in case. My granddaughter said, "Wouldn't that be a shame, if this beautiful fruit went to waste. You got to pull through, Grandma, for the sake of the raspberries!"
It was a few minutes before the neighbor stopped laughing and could walk back across the street.

...

You Had to Be There?
- I saw a 3-way collision in the hallway the other day. My neice Mira Bella was toddling after Sparky, her great-grandma's big fat orange cat. Sparky was skeptically walking, ears back, just ahead of Mira's outstretched fingertips. They reached the end of the hall just as Grandma opened the door, almost planting her cane on top of the cat. Mira, startled, let out a SHRIEK and toppled back onto her diaper; Sparky yowled and darted for the bedroom, and Grandma almost fell backwards into the bathroom.
A few seconds later Grandma and Mira were laughting together, but we didn't see Sparky for a while.

...
Turtle Logic (condensed)

Mother, [rousing her sons from bed]: WHY is there a WHAT is that THING in the GARBAGE CAN?!?!
Boy 1: It's a alligator snapper turtle.
Boy 2: You said not to put things in the bathtub after those big catfish...
Boy 1: and it can bite the end off a broomstick
Boy 2: and it wouldn't fit in anything else.

...
Ants:
My grandmother has been plagued by ants for some time -- crawling into the dishwasher and onto the cat's food. "What am I supposed to do about them?" she wondered, "The cat won't eat from his dish if a single ant has crawled in it."
Some weeks later, I saw the answer at a client's home: his dog's food bowl rests in a large dishpan, offering plentiful water and ant-free dining (they won't cross the "moat"). We tried it with a smaller pan at Grandma's, and it stopped those ants cold.
Now the cat sniffs at the pan of water before turning his nose up at the food, instead of sniffing at ants.