Adventure 449: The Story of George, 45

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Real time found George REAL mad. Spitting mad. Shooting mad. Drooling mad. Get the dogs out mad. "And tell that woman not to come in my room; it's illegal, and if I find her in there, there will be hell to pay. I can take care of my own pills; I don't need that kind of help." That's the tirade we heard as we approached the table for last night's dinner. We were buoyant from our overnighter, happy with the sunshine, riding, reading, knitting, playing crib. But as soon as we got into view, George started wagging his finger. He'd caught Judy's eye. He made three or four cutting motions across his neck, and before we even sat down, he began making his views known. It got awkward for a second, especially when Peggy, the care giver, leaned over behind me and whispered, "He doesn't like me." I thought to myself, "We've done it now, we've flown one too many cuckoos over the nest." Needless to say, we dismissed the care giver with our apologies, and Judy made a plea for George to be nice to her because it wasn't her doing. She was acting on our behalf. I doubt that he'll talk to her, but nothing tried, nothing gained. The amazing part is that if he's spunky enough to get pissed off, maybe he's still spunky enough to run his own life. We agree. The problem is the pills. We can no longer be daily monitors, mainly because it's becoming our only contact with George. When we started this, I was hoping for five good years with George, so I don't want the last two, three, or... to be fraught with henpecking. The only answer is to take it off our plate. We'll see what happens. And to be sure, this is just the beginning of the tantrums. Just wait until we're forced to move him away from his girl friend. He's likely to pull a full on revolt and not shave, not dress, not eat, and not move. That'll show us. Fortunately for me I'm not that good at predicting the future (Just look at my NCAA bracket every year), so there's hope that whatever will be will be as God wants it. Stay tuned because I'm turning it over to prayer.

Meanwhile, I've maintained my goal of riding my bike every day this week. It's the first week we've had consistent weather in the seventies. Crisp, blue, bright, and warm. These are unbeatable riding conditions. Right now just my butt and my shoulder blades was whining, but then they always do. When they whine too much, I just take a break at a coffee shop, so really life is pretty good, especially today.

Still thirteen uphill blocks to get home from here, but a nice break nonetheless.