Today I went to my parents' place, where I never know what I am going to do. Whatever they need, basically.
Today that included helping my father take a shower and get dressed, wash out his bladder through his suprapubic catheter, make him his breakfast and give him his pills.
It also included helping my mother put up plastic reflecting film on the east-facing windows to see whether it would keep the heat out while still allowing Dad to survey his domain (and the clouds above it).
And going south toward Eugene but stopping just short of actually entering the city (which sure did feel funny), to make a pickup at Jerry's. Next time, we'll be putting up handrails to make it easier for Dad to practice walking without his walker.
Last of all, I gave direction (not very well, I think) to a dump truck driver as he delivered a load of gravel to replace what washed away in last winter's flooding. Going ahead of the truck as it backed down the hill, I saw a patch of daisies right in the middle of the bridge.
I'd been looking at wildflowers by the roadside all morning, thinking about picking a few to put on the Sputnik's dashboard, and here were flowers which in moments would be buried under a load of gravel. I picked three and tucked them into my hat, and laid them on the dashboard later.
//The Magic Eight-Ball says, "A rescue is a rescue."\\
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