WHAT A DIFFERENCE!

We are just back from San Diego where we went to celebrate my father-in-law's 96th birthday. That's Hughie on the left in this photo. He still lives alone in a big ol' house in Mission Hills, walks, works in his rose garden and has a pretty darned good life.









Then we have my long time friend, Mae Lou. She's 93 or 94, actually went to high school with Hughie and my mother-in-law Ruth a few decades back. Mae Lou is in a "care facility" with damned little caring being provided. Lost her hearing aides and "they" won't get new ones. Offspring all live out of state so she has little company. She's in a room with two other people with just flimsy curtains to pull for privacy. And, lest you think that's where we all go if we have no money, there is plenty of money in a trust for her care; it's just not being used well.

I get extremely upset when I visit and see the ungodly situation she's been left in; but other than "encourage" her offspring to make other arrangements there is little I can do. Did find an Ombudsman (actually an Ombudswoman) in place this time since someone had complained about Mae Lou having been over medicated, presumably for the convenience of the staff.

Take another look back up at the top photo. That's a good friend Jim Hannan on the right. Jim's a biology professor who presently has a female tarantula. My Spousal Unit decided to take him a male to see if he could breed them. I'm told that one can tell the males from the females based on behavior rather than needing to get close enough to look at sex organs. Anyway, Scottie captured a male, who we named Tommy Tarantula, and put him in a box to take to Jim. That meant that on the trip down we had Lucy Cat, who is ill with a bladder infection, in her carrier as well as Tommy T in his box. Jim happened to be out of town so Mr. T got to reside in the garage for a few days. Well, the Unit got worried that little Tommy might not be faring well so he opened the box to check him out. Tommy was just fine. Ever the concerned soul, the Spousal Unit decided to leave the top of the box open "just a crack" to be sure little Tommy was getting adequate air (did I not say he was FINE). You guessed it - when Scottie went to make the presentation to Jim - no Tommy. He had escaped into my father-in-law's garage where he's probably lurking in the vain hope of a female wandering by. I have the horrible feeling that we'll be capturing another so the breeding program can go on.