Playing House

It's interesting watching Nastia and Sean 'play house'. I don't mean to make that sound mean. Last night (2/27/2023) it snowed. It is the first measurable snowstorm of the year on the last day of February (2/28/23). Everyone is out of practice and unprepared. I did get Bruce, a family friend, to fix the snow blower, so at least that was ready for the storm. I even started it yesterday to make sure it still worked, it did. Overnight it snowed about 4-5 inches, and was over by the time I got up. Couldn’t even watch it fall. I’m up at 6 to let the dogs out with Teri. I shovel the back steps, the walkway and I make a path for the dogs because they’re old. About seven I wake Nastia up telling her she’ll need to clear the snow off her car. She groans and mumbles something along the lines of She’s making Sean breakfast. I leave her, message has been delivered. About ten after seven, she is up and she is making Sean frozen waffles. Sean is clearing off the cars. I walk past the breakfast table and see two sets of waffles on plates, but no one is eating. I hear Nastia outside and I wonder how they will enjoy their cold waffles. It’s Tuesday, so I leave the front porch covered in snow. I’m at the point where I feel that it is time for someone else to shovel snow. Later in the day, Elena will shovel the steps. I’ll clean the snow off Teri’s car and my car, maybe the girls cars, if there is time. Today with this great new job with the early end time, anything happening early in the morning, I don’t have time for it. I even leave the snow blower plugged in for the electric starter ready incase Elena figures she wants to try and use it. She doesn’t and I’m not unhappy about that. It’s a big machine and I can just imagine her putting her hand in the chute after it clogs with wet slushy snow and her fingers get shortened when she touches the auger while it’s moving. Everyone thinks it won’t happen to them.

That afternoon I text Elena and ask her if she knows what she is going to cook this week. She has not idea because she doesn’t have a grasp on what varieties are out there. I text her and ask her if she wants to make Yankee Tower Meatloaf. She texts back, “Is that the one with the cheeeeesseeee” I answer yes. She wants to make it.

We start at about six. Teri is not feeling good so she comes home early. I have one way to teach and do things, Teri’s is exactly the opposite, from my view point anyway. Teri tells her to use this small cup with ounces on the side for the 6 ounces of milk. I’m on the other side of Elena saying, “six ounces is ¾ of a cup, just use that. Elena uses the small cup for the liquid and the ¾ cup for the bread crumbs. Somewhere the meatloaf gets too much milk or too little breadcrumbs because it spreads when it cooks. It still tastes fine. Elena makes macaroni and cheese and a couple vegetables and dinner is ready. She comments later that making the meatloaf was so easy. I was happy about that.

Saturday we had to put Bandi down. He is blind, he can’t always walk up and down stairs and he has become senile. Most mornings this last month or so I’d carry him down in a plastic container, turn it on it’s side pointing toward the wall of the stairs so he has a straight shot to the back door. After the first few times he’d begun to understand where he was and how to get where he needed to be, then it seemed to change and he’d get lost. I’d have to stand behind him and he’d play bumper car with my feet until he went in the direction he needed to go. Teri had said several times maybe it was time. I’d resisted hoping he’d die one night and save us the decision. We called the vet on Saturday morning and we’re told to bring him in around 11:30. It went like the other dogs in the past and he will be cremated and buried at Teri’s mom’s grave somewhere. He was 17 when he died, we’d had him for 15 years.