I haven’t done much today other than ride along to Burlington for our Costco/cat food run. After picking up the 840 pounds of cat food at Northwest Feed, John swung us over to Costco.
We have the trip down to a science. (That sounds better than admitting we stick very closely to a routine.) We eat before we shop. For just over five dollars, John and I each have a Polish sausage and a Pepsi, while Mom has a mocha coffee and a churro (and a bite of my sausage). Then Mom stays in the food court area enjoying her coffee and nibbling on her churro while John and I shop. He pushes the cart because I am not strong enough. Today we ended up with a typical load that included a case of Pepsi, two cases of Talking Rain fizzy water, and four cases of coffee drinks. I shouldn’t forget the big bag of boneless, skinless chicken breasts, the gallon jar of four-bean salad, and the large jar of almond butter. Of course, there were also the maple syrup, the summer sausage, the jars of peaches, the six peppers, and the Charmin. And the extra sharp cheddar cheese, the orange juice, and the box of snack-size chips (30 count, I think). Oh, and the frozen meatballs . You get the idea, anyway.
The trip to and from the mainland in John’s Ford F250 diesel pick up was pretty typical, too. We had the classical music station playing, and I noticed again that the clock needed to be reset. The cab smelled faintly of cougar, and I sat in the middle since I am the shortest. As we drove over Deception Pass Bridge coming and going, Mom fondly reminisced about an experience that never happened: her spending the whole day exploring the area and walking back and forth across the bridge while John got the car fixed. She made her usual comments about how her mother hated Lombardi poplars and how, had her younger brother lived (he died in a Naval Air Force training flight when he was nineteen), he might have been the commanding general of the Whidbey Island Naval Air Force Base. John and I listened, never correcting or contradicting as she related various other memories with varying versions only minutes apart.
After we got home and John unpacked the truck, Mom got her golf cart out to cruise the driveway, and John and I took the dogs for a walk. Since he was laid off a week ago, we have resumed our daily walks, which not only provide needed exercise but also give us a chance to confer over our care of Mom.
It’s five p.m. now. Mom is playing the parlor organ, I am sitting here at the computer, and John will be over in an hour for our shared evening meal. After dinner, John will go feed the animals, Mom will settle in her recliner with the cat on her lap, and I’ll turn on the evening news after I tidy up the kitchen. Around seven, Mom will decide if she is going over to John’s to watch a movie with him, and I will stay here and read. It’s a typical end to another typical day here at Casa Del Gato.
