Too old to go outdoors?

This happened years ago.

It was a busy shift and when Mr G. pressed his buzzer I was annoyed. I knew what he wanted. I knew it’d take me at least 20 minutes to get him organized and outside. But he was an outdoorsman. And he didn’t want to be in his room all day. Until fairly recently he’d been going out on his own, but his muscles had weakened significantly and his legs were unable to hold him up.

He’d been a farmer all his life. At first with his father, later in life, after many years of running the farm with his wife, his son took over the farm and he’d stayed on as a farm help. That was until he came to live with us in the nursing home. When he moved in he told us he wanted to go out daily. “I don’t mind bad weather” he said.

His daughter in law had constructed what looked like a sleeping bag out of leather and sheepskin. This ‘bag’, if you will, went up to his chest. This went over his trousers and shoes. A thick wind and watertight parka went over it. I put his gloves on his hands and placed the buzzer inside. A hat and a cap adorned his head. The last thing I put on him was a scarf in the colours of the Island Flag.

He looked ridiculous. But you’d want an old fragile man to be kept warm when it’s freezing.

So I rolled his wheelchair outside, just under the awning. It was snowing, so it wasn’t too cold. I told him I’d come and check on him every 30 minutes and if something was wrong he’d buzz me.

After the first 30 minutes I went to check on him. He was fine, he told me. I checked his temperature by placing three fingers on the back of his neck. He yelled at me, my hand was colder than he was. I offered him a cup of tea which he declined. After the second 30 minutes he was still felling warm, but took the cup of tea I offered him.

Twenty minutes later, I was taking a tea break, I heard commotion in the hallway. I went to see what was going on.

The scene was hilarious. Mr G. was  being rolled indoors by a woman I’d never seen before. Behind her was a man looking very embarrassed. Mr G was shouting, screaming and yelling. She wasn’t listening to anything he said.

When she saw me standing at the door of the staff room, she immediately began to yell at me, glaring at me. She basically told me off for putting Mr G outside in the snow. She said it was unheard of to put a man of his age outside for any amount of time. Apparently they had come by earlier and she’d seen him outside then. All the while Mr G was screaming bloody murder. I placed my hand on his shoulder and told him to stop and trust me. He stopped screaming.

When the woman finally stopped yelling, her husband ( I assume) looking more embarrassed than ever, I asked her if she had asked Mr G why he was outside. Mr G immediately started yelling again. “No, she hasn’t asked me anything. Bloody woman just rolled me inside!” The woman started saying that this was beside the point.

Behind me I heard my boss. Her office was close to the hallway and instinctively I knew she was standing behind the door. There for me should I need it.

I told the woman my question was not beside the point. That if a patient wanted to go outside they were allowed to. That he was better suited for the cold than she was. And that he’d spent his life working outdoors. It’d be cruel to lock him inside, saying it was too cold in winter, too hot in summer and too wet on everything in between.

Her husband quietly told her she’d made a mistake, but she was still having none of it. “I’m going to go to the police. I’m going to complain about this.” I told her fine. Even gave the name of a police officer that would be more than happy to talk to her. It was the name of Mr G’s son-in-law.

Mr G laughed. The woman and her husband went to the police station.

I heard later that the son-in-law and his coworkers had a good laugh about it.

Holiday

We’ve been to Zeeland on holiday many times as a family when I was young. I loved it there. The sea, the beach, the landscape.

A few years ago we went back.  Again I loved it. I’m sure we’ll be back again in the years to come. Not sure when, but we’ll go back.

This post has been written for The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge

Textures

A few weeks ago we had the chance to look around a building site nearby. I took a lot of photos and promptly forgot about them. But when I saw the weekly photo challenge I remembered them again.

Making Jam

Our blackberry bush is loaded with fruit. Now I love blackberries, but it looked like I had to eat nothing but blackberries for weeks. So I decided to make jam. I had no idea it was this easy. And the smell is amazing. The whole house smells like jam. There’s a ton of fruit still on the bush, so I think I’ll make more jam later this week.

My blackberries are really sweet, so I didn’t use a lot of sugar. About half of the weight of the fruit. When I tasted it it was delicious. I can’t wait til we can try it!

And I started again…

It’s been months since I last played my Sims 4 game. A lot of other games have been played in between the last time I started my Sims game and now. But today, after hearing some music that vaguely reminded me of The Sims I booted the game up again. After a lot of patching and downloading updated hacks (really, who can play without them?) I began playing. And I love it again. I wonder how long it’ll take before it’ll sit dormant on my pc again…

I’m probably going to hell for this…

I’m sure I’ll have to cross the gates of hell for this…

This week I was in town. On my way home I saw an older woman walking on a bridge. She was yawning so bad her false teeth dropped out of her mouth. The teeth fell onto the road surface of the bridge, jumped up a little and then flew through the gap under the railing, into the mucky waters of the canal below…

I laughed…

This post has been written for Today’s Daily Prompt.

Daily Prompt: A Plot of Earth

Yesterday’s daily prompt asked:

You’re given a plot of land and have the financial resources to do what you please. What’s the plan?

This has always been a dream of mine. But the answer depends on how big the plot of land is, really.
For good measure, let’s go with a large plot.

green roof

First of all, my husband and I would build our dream house. A modest house, with ample space for our hobbies (library for me:) ), a nice big bedroom, a couple of studies, a nice big kitchen and a cosy living room. It would be a green house. I would like green covering on the roof, solar panels, a heat pump and a reed bed to filter waste water. It would have a large underground tank to store rain water to use for the toilets, the sink in the utility room and the garden.

home library

The garden would be a wild flower meadow, and walled kitchen garden with plenty of space for my veggies and fruits. It also would have an orchard for fruit trees and berry bushes. And a field for our alpacas!
It would also have an underground garage for our Kate.

All of this sounds great. Let me research our family tree to see if we have an uncle with lots of money…

Photo’s from Focx and LoveMaegan.

I must have a nice face…

Dailypost asks:

It turns out that your neighbor on the plane/bus/train (or the person sitting at the next table at the coffee shop) is a very, very chatty tourist. Do you try to switch seats, go for a non-committal brief small talk, or make this person your new best friend?

Well, somehow people like that always seem to target me for some reason. If I’m out shopping they come up to me and ask for anything; ATMs, shops, general directions.

And I have no idea why. Many people told me that my ‘normal’ face makes me look quite angry, even though I’m in a good mood. So why do they target me? There must be something they see that’s making them feel at ease. Or I’m always smiling, even though I don’t notice…

Generally I give them the directions the want, tell them where it is they’re looking for. At the registers in supermarkets I always let people with very few items got first if I have a lot. But I’m not afraid to ask if I can go first if a new register opens and I have only a few items. I only do this if the person in front of me has a cart full of stuff. Otherwise I’ll wait. And many times the person in front of me asks if I want to go first and starts chatting. Most of the times it’s about health, deaths or other things that seem to be related with my job. I don’t know how they think telling me personal stuff is okay, but they somehow always do.

I don’t mind in places like that. I can get out relatively quick. But if this was to happen on a plane I’d be doing my “I’m asleep” impression, which I’ve perfected! I’ve had this happen a couple of times and people always thought I was sleeping. It made a very, very chatty aunt of my mother shut up for more than 2 hours. Her husband and his sister (my grandmother) were very thankful for that 🙂

Finders, Keepers!

While walking on the beach you stumble on a valuable object buried in the sand — say, a piece of jewelry or an envelope full of cash. What do you do with it? Under what circumstances would you keep it? 

This is what The Daily Post wants to know.

I’d do anything in my power to find the owner. I’d use the internet to see if I can find anything.

I once had this whilst walking in a seaside town. I saw a bewildered looking guy with three kids standing near an ATM machine. A few minutes later I saw 500 euro sticking out of the machine. The guy with the kids was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed the money from the machine and immediately walked indoors to give the money to the bank employee. I then went on and looked everywhere for the guy I saw standing by the ATM earlier.

I never found the guy, but a few days later I was back in that same town and went to the bank. I asked if the money had been picked up and it had been. The owner left a note with his phone number and a gift card. I never called him, as I didn’t feel the need. I didn’t even feel the gift card was needed, but it sure was a nice touch.

I’m not a person to keep things that don’t belong to me. I’ve lost a bracelet that my grandmother gave a few weeks before her death. I tried everything to get it back, but it’s never been found. She went out and bought it for me, even though she had so many health problems. The bracelet looked a lot like this one. And even after so many years, I still miss that bracelet.

So no, I’m not going to keep something that isn’t mine!