Tim’s dad is in the hospital again — because he’s been confined to bed for a big part of the day (after his stroke), he got a bedsore, and it became abscessed, and last night the abcess burst. He’s being evaluated and might have to have surgery, but we don’t know yet. He’s getting lots of antibiotics and such, and apparently he’s in good spirits, but he’s also going to be in the ICU. So I don’t have a good sense of how serious this is. I think at this point the best assumption is that it’s serious but treatable, and obviously the hospital is the best place for him.

Right now the hospital only allows 1 visitor per day, and Tim's brother is there now, so he’s today’s visitor. Tim will probably go tomorrow. I’ve read so many articles about how hospitals are so swamped with Covid patients that they’re turning away people with non-Covid problems, even serious ones. So I’m really glad the hospital could treat him and has an ICU bed for him.

I'll be honest: I don't want to be a pessimist, but his long-term outcome seems bad. Because of his stroke, he can't be mobile enough to avoid bedsores, and the nursing home's staff is following best practices to prevent/care for them, but there's only so much they can do. This sucks.

Bedsores can be very serious. but he is in the right place getting the right treatment. Sending healing~ma.

When Maria’s doctor cousin was helping take care of her mom we got these sheepskin cushions/just attachments to prevent bedsores. I was only involved because I actually sewed the straps so they would fit properly and not rub against the sores. Offering to maybe help and much love to you and Tim.

My parents said oleo, too, and my mom frequently (frequently, frequently, oh my word so frequently) talks about mixing the coloring into the brick of white oleo.

My parents (especially my father, who was born in the late '20s) used ice box for refrigerator, and I think I was the only kid in my neighborhood who called their living room the parlor. My Nana used "chesterfield" and "davenport" instead of couch/sofa. I could never quite work out if she just switched on a whim, or if they represented different styles to her.

It’s odd that margarine was a soft g. Where did that come from?

Sometimes, when English mugs French for a word (which is also margarine and pronounced mar-gar-reen), I swear it changes the pronunciation, just to give France the finger.

British English has done this more often, I think (cf. how some Brits pronounced ballet as bal-let, and valet pronounced as val-et), but sometimes American English takes the trolling lead (foyer as foy-yer rather than foy-yay).

We were a mixed status household for butter and margarine, mostly because of price, but I think at some point in the '70s, the advertising industry promoted it as "healthier." We used real butter for baking (usually, unless it was something we made with Crisco, or my mom's preferred shortening brand for pie crust — Spry), and if we hosted a holiday meal, there was butter on the table, not margarine.

My mom would never buy the tubs of soft margarine though (I think that might have been a price decision, too), which I wanted so very much, but not as much as...

I not only grew up with margarine, I grew up with Squeeze Parkay out of bottle.

I pined for the Squeeze Parkay! I can picture it drizzling down upon a stack of pancakes, so they must have used that image in an ad at some point. I don't think I ever had it.

I never had Cheez-Whiz either.

Oh, Teppy! I'm so sorry. I am embarrassed that I was up to my ears in margarine like some internet cat.

How old is Tim's father?

I was up to my ears in margarine like some internet cat.

This phrase needs to enter regular usage right away.

How old is Tim's father?

He turned 84 this year. He's been in assisted living since spring of 2017.

That's so hard. You just don't bounce back the same in your 80s.

Oh, Tep. I'm sorry. Good thoughts for your family.

Reasons to be Cheerful, Pt. 3

It's finally cold enough in San Francisco to wear my Warm Green Coat. It's not my Maximum Warm Coat (that would be the Big Black Coat as designed by Justin Timberlake), but it's cozy on a brisk day.

At the cafe, I met the cutest fuckin' dog! He was a little terrier tied up outside and shivering. So I said, Hi, and he got all waggy and came to me and licked me with his stinky fish breath and twirled in and around until he got caught in his own leash and I had to pick him up to untangle him. And I thought he was a puppy, he was so sweet and wee, but Riddle is 10 years old his owner told me. "He's a lover!"

Despite my asymmetrical xmas shopping (Emmett & JZ fully shopped and then some, Matilda barely there, plus need stuff for EM and my MiL) I've still managed to wrap a ton of things ahead of time and get them under the tree. Of course the living room looks like a barn because the pigs have been scattering hay, but we're really just a vacuuming away from having a proper xmassy scene in the living room.

After JZ and I hit the notary, I'm going out to do Extra Shopping and since it'll be in places like Japantown it won't even be onerous (though it will be busy).

I kind of want to do a pumpkin cheesecake. That's a good idea, right?

I woke Matilda up and she got to sit up under her heated blanket and receive a toasted bagel with cream cheese, and a coffee from the cafe. The very height of luxury, waking up to carbs and caffeine delivered to your face.

I kind of want to do a pumpkin cheesecake. That's a good idea, right?

Never ever a bad idea. Pro tip: ginger snap crust.