Road Trip with Mom's New TV, Setting It up for Her, and My Christmas Present

 Around three weeks ago, mom's big Sony TV died.  She called in the IT person in her retirement community, who gave her the bad news.  Apparently, she thought he could fix it.  Nope.  At least the poor guy unhooked the dead one, brought up a much smaller one from the basement, and set it up for her, so she had one.

Well, that other one was too small for mom see properly these days, so she called me demanding that I find her a new one, and that my cousins recommended a Samsung, so it had to be a Samsung, but smaller than the Sony that died.  Okay, fine, but she had no clue what size, etc., and couldn't measure it herself (she can't even stand up straight on a walker, and falls down a lot if she bends over too much).

After much research, I came up with several options, depending on 32" or 43," ranging in price from $300 or so up to $1000.  Anything bigger would be too big.  After a couple of calls to discuss the size and pic/sound quality of each option, she decided I had to buy her the top of the line 43" one.  No prob, but we had to take delivery ourselves, and drive it over there to install it for her.  She lives in a different state.  She considers this my duty as a daughter, and not at all an imposition.

OMG, she was hovering over us like a bee as hubby and I unpacked it, assembled the base and support arm, attaching it to the back of the TV with screws, then plugging in the power and HDMI cords, firing it up, setting it up to coordinate with her cable box remote, etc.  That was no clip on plastic feet for a base.  It was solid steel sheet metal.

Then she started arguing that it was all wrong that now she had to push the CBL button on her Comcast remote to turn the TV on and off, instead of the TV one she used to use.  Everything else on that remote works the way she's used to using.

Deal with it, mom.  Do you want me to tape a note onto your remote to remind you to use the CBL button?  She had other issues with the remote not working from across the room.

Turns out her problem with her Comcast remote was that the batteries were dying.  She told me she needed to call IT to get them to come replace them for her, because it takes special batteries.  Ay yi yi.  That remote uses two AA batteries, but she was so clueless.  I replaced them for her on the spot, saving her the embarrassment of calling in IT.  I don't think she even knew how to pop the back off the remote to even look at the batteries.

Up until maybe two years ago, she retained all her marbles, and she's still not stupid, but she is losing a few, and I'm the only immediate family member she has left.  All other relatives are from my nearly decade long deceased dad's side of the family, or are in laws.  Many, but not all of them, seem to be sucking up to her lately, out of the blue, when they never used to contact her before.  Bucking for some inheritance money, or real concern?

Every time we visit, which is on Saturdays, it really is a road trip to get there from here and back, we have to listen to a few hours worth of complaining about anything and everything while we're there.  Sometimes we take her out shopping, too.

Today, mom announced that she had forgotten to give me my Christmas present.  Yes, she did.  Two visits ago, it was a box of Kleenex.  Last time, it was what was left of a box of Belgian chocolates she received that she had trouble opening, and re-gifted to us.  She said she meant to write me a check for Christmas.  Well, we left today with the check that reimbursed me for the cost of her new TV.  Not that I care, but she may or may not realize that wasn't the one that was supposed to be for my present.  I don't need the Christmas windfall, but it is funny that she keeps forgetting.

Food Video Review

 I enjoy watching videos of old "forgotten" food items from the 1930s through the 1970s.  Not all of those dishes are gone and forgotten.  I freaking love tuna melts on rye, but keep them simple, with nothing more than canned tuna, flaked up, finely diced celery, mayo, and some salt and pepper in the tuna salad.

Casseroles are also good, but they really don't take much less time to prepare, dump in the dish, and bake (if any) than it would to bake some chicken breasts, steam some broccoli, and make mashed potatoes to go with it.  Hello.  For shepherd's pie, the meat needs to be cooked ahead of time, as does the mashed potato topping.  For tetrazzini, the bechamel needs to be made ahead of time, along with the sweated down mushrooms and celery.  The spaghetti can cook while all that's going on, but it still takes a good half hour before it's ready to toss in a glass casserole, top with some sort of bread crumbs, and let bake for another 30-40 minutes.

You can cheat with condensed canned soup for some things, but the end product is not as good.

Still, all of it beats the living daylights out of the jar of baked beans and a couple of hot dogs my mom left the babysitter to feed us when my parents went out to a dinner party.  I really hate hot dogs.  Diced up, they're okay for training a dog. A good bratwurst, otoh, grilled, is goff with some whole grain mustard.

Josie

 Our new dog:

  

Her name is Josie.  We had to have our 15 year old black lab mix euthanized a few weeks ago.  He beat the odds for his parentage by a good three years.

Josie gets along just fine with our cats, and is a lovable couch potato with no separation anxiety issues when we trudge up to bed or leave to go run errands.  It took her just a few hours to settle in, greet the cats with a brief sniff, and leave them alone.  She's already nine years old, so she probably won't last more than another handful of years.

We already have an appointment with our longtime veterinarian's office for an initial checkup.  It was part of the deal with the adoption deal from our local county SPCA, but even if it wasn't I'd have booked one.

The way her one ear doesn't sty up like the other one does is so endearing, and she has the sweetest personality.  She needs to lose 10-15 pounds worth of pudge, which we can manage with keeping her on a diet in which doesn't involve a lot of treats, and taking her for good long walks around our farm.

Josie and the Pussycats, for real, not the cartoon from when I was a teen.